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to name his visits. I looked steadily at him, and in that look the truth became plain to my eyes, and the love passed away from my heart. I doubted him, and distrust cannot dwell with love; for love is all-believing! I felt myself become steeled to him, and I resolved to put his protestations to the proof.

'And do you still love me, Theodore?' I said.

'Heaven is my witness,' he exclaimed, 'that you are dearer to me at this moment than you ever were before.'

'And you love me for myself and my heart only?'

For thyself, for thy gentleness, for thy woman's heart!' 'And if I were poor-poor of my only advantages-if I had even no voice to recommend me-no voice wherewith to delight your ear and to earn riches for my husband?'

"Then wouldst thou be dearer still, my own love! dearer in thy privation, dearer if dependent solely on my arm.'

It is well, Theodore,' I said very calmly, as I fixed the same unwavering glance upon him, 'for such indeed is my condition. The fever has dealt hardly with me. I have lost my voice!'

He was once more kneeling at my feet; but when I said these words, he rose, and turned deadly pale. He could not believe me; he looked at me, yet I seemed grave and in earnest. He tried to force a smile. You are jesting with me, my love.'

Indeed, no,' I replied; my voice is irrevocably gone. I shall never sing again.'

He dropped into a chair; the very power of dissimulation seemed to leave him; his cheeks and lips became livid. I could almost have pitied his dismay, but for the scorn with which his baseness inspired me.

'I fear,' said I haughtily, 'that your excellency is disappointed.' He started, rose, and pressing his hand to his forehead, pleaded a sudden illness, and begged permission to retire for a few moments till he should feel recovered. He advanced as if to embrace me. I drew back with undisguised contempt; but he seized my hand, touched it with his lips-and they were icy cold -bowed profoundly, and hastened from the room.

Traitor that he was! I felt too much indignation to be moved either to grief or to compassion. My pride was wounded, but my heart untouched. I sat down and wrote instantly to M. Lecroix. My letter was brief and decisive. I told him all-how my voice was gone, and my theatrical career consequently ended. I expressed my regret for his disappointment, and announced my intention of speedily quitting Paris.

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I rang for Pierrette, despatched my letter to the manager, and then turning to her, Pierrette,' I said, 'I wish to go into the country for a few months. Will you accompany me?'

"To the country, madame? At this time of the year? Ah, the country in February is so triste!'

'Not to me. I have been used to see it, and love it in all changes of season. Will you go with me or not, Pierrette?'

'O with you, ma chère madame-with you anywhere!'

So we consulted about the best place to choose. She named many in the neighbourhood of Paris-Ville d'Avray, Asnieres, Argenteuil, St Germain; but it ended in my leaving the choice to herself, and she was to go out the next day and seek some retreat for me.

Evening came. I sat beside the fire, and formed a plan for my future life. I resolved to spend some months in the country till my health was thoroughly restored, and then to seek the situation of governess in some French or English family.

'A letter for madame,' said Pierrette, entering and disturbing my reverie.

I opened it, and read it by the firelight. Theodore's writing!— what had he to say to me? I was to be duped no longer by false But no-this ran in a different strain. He regretted my loss and his own poverty: he had no wish to drag me down to want; he felt that the most generous part would be to resign me. I was free-he was for ever unhappy; he wished me all forgetfulness of my devoted servant, Theodore von Bachhoffen.

Generous! generous indeed! And so this was the end-the end of that golden dream of truth and love! One tear fell on the paper: it was the last lingering weakness of my heart. I crushed the letter in my hand, and cast it into the flames. It blazed and writhed, turned to a black charred substance lighter than the very air, and fell away in dust. I looked up, and saw Pierrette still standing there, and gazing fixedly upon me. There was a curious meaning in her face. You are waiting to say something to me?' I asked.

'No-yes; that is-I have heard of a residence for madame.' 'Indeed!' I said, 'and where is it, Pierrette?'

'At Bellevue, madame, near Sévres. I have a cousin there who owns a house in a charming situation-and-and it is at madame's service for as many months as she may please to reside there.'

'This is indeed delightful, Pierrette,' I said smiling; ' and when may we go there?'

To-morrow, if madame pleases, or the next day.'

So I fixed the next day, as I thought I should then be stronger for the journey. During all the time that intervened, Pierrette was in a state of uncontrollable excitement. She laughed, danced, chattered, and seemed beside herself with joy. She seemed frequently on the point of saying something, and as often checked herself. When I questioned her, she parried my inquiries by saying that she had prepared a little surprise for me at Bellevuebut she would not tell-no, not for the world! The morning came at length. I had thought much of this poor monsieur' of whom Pierrette had told me; but since the evening I had received the letter from the baron, she had remained unaccountably silent whenever I had spoken of him. Before we left the hotel, I gave

her a card with my address at Bellevue written upon it, and desired her to leave it with the concierge in case he should ever call again; for I had a haunting desire to see and know this man. 'And so he never came again, Pierrette?' I said as I gave it to her. " 0 no, madame, no.'

Can you not describe his appearance, his complexion, his height?'

Me, madame! Ah ciel! not I! I do not observe gentlemen.' So it was of no avail; and as we left the card and rolled away in the fiacre, I sighed to think that I might never know him.

I was still weak, and the noise of the carriage, the sight of the crowded streets, the glittering shops, the thronging vehicles, distressed and fluttered me. I leaned back in the corner, and closed my eyes. When I again opened them, we were out of the gay city, and passing along a country road bordered by barren fields and leafless trees. The air was fresh and clear, and there was a look of awakening spring in everything around. I felt a great peace and resignation steal upon me, and, though I was very silent, I felt happier. We passed many pretty country-houses; a thick wood green with wintry firs; then down a lane arched overhead by trees-a perfect bower in the summer season. The coach stopped suddenly before a garden-gate, in the front of an exquisite little country-house, all overgrown with dark glossy ivy, and fenced in by trees. Here we alighted. Pierrette gave me her arm, and led me through the house-all was new, charming, and complete.

'Is madame content?' asked Pierrette smiling. Content! It was but too good-and the rent I feared- But Pierrette laughed, and shook her head. 'Would not madame now wish to walk through the garden?'

So we went out from the windows of the salon, and down a flight of stone steps upon the grassy lawn. Even at this season the place looked beautiful. The tiny crocuses and snowdrops were just blossoming forth above the mould; the laurel, the fir, the laurustina with its pink clustering blossoms, and the thick ivy, lent a green like spring-time. There was a summer-house at the end, with a tiny fountain in front.

Madame must rest in the summer-house for a few moments,' said Pierrette, as she made me take a seat.

What was there in so simple a thing as a bouquet of camellias to make me start, and blush and tremble as I did, to see it lying there upon the little rustic table? I rose, half terrified, as if to gothere was a footstep on the gravel-walk-Pierrette clapped her hands, and ran away.

'Pierrette! Pierrette!' I cried, and was about to follow, when a dark form interposed, a gentle hand took mine, and led me back into the arbour. I did not look upon his face, but my heart told me who it was, even before he spoke to me. Blind as I had been before, I knew all now! "Alice! Alice!' said

Herr Stolberg as he placed me in the seat and stood before me— 'I love you!'

I made no reply, and he went on.

'Alice! I have loved you for the last ten years-even since you were a little child. When you were a child, I was a man; I have now reached middle life, and you are in the bloom of youth. Can you love me?'

I was silent, but the tears slowly filled my eyes and dropped upon my cheeks.

I never left you, Alice,' he said in the same low tone, 'since that night when you departed in sorrow from your German home. On the roof of the same coach I travelled with and protected you. In Paris, I have watched over you; and when death threatened to remove you from my care, I was ready also to die!?

I looked up into his dark eyes, and standing there in his noble. truth and generous love, to me he seemed beautiful-it was the beautiful of the soul.

'I have prepared this summer-home for you. Be my wife, Alice, and let us share it together! When the autumn comes, we will return to Germany, and to our art.'

And I smiled sadly through my tears. 'But I have no voice,' I said softly.

'I know it; still you have voice enough to say: "I love you" -and that is all the melody my heart asks from thine.'

And so, reader, I said it.

The words were spoken fifteen years ago, and I have not repented of them yet.

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TOUR IN AUVERGNE.

LONG with a party of friends, in the summer of 1844, I was able to make a tour in Auvergne and some other parts of France not ordinarily visited by the English; the principal object of our excursion being to see some of the more curious geological phenomena, for which the Auvergne country is celebrated. Our route, in its early part, by Boulogne and Paris to Orleans, was of the usual common-place character. At Orleans, we were upon the Loire, and descended that river by a small steamer, which drew only two or three feet of water. To Blois was our first day's performance, and having landed there, we next day proceeded, by means of a hired calèche, to Vierzon, town now reached by railway direct from Paris. At Vierzon, which is a small town on the Cher, where we stopped for the night, the country was observed to alter in

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No. 68.

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