70 THE WATCH-TO WttU OF KOAT-VtU. 



For this woman was one of those fine specimens of Spanish blood, 

 of a luxuriant and vigorous character. What fierce transports of con- 

 suming and unappeasable jealousy in those expressive features, not the 

 less determined for their elegance ! and that hair, so abundant and 

 silken I those eyebrows, so bright, so beautifully arched 1 and that 

 light almost imperceptible down which gave brilliancy to the pure co- 

 ral of a pouting lip I 



O, Rita I Rita ! thou hast scarce numbered eight and twenty sum- 

 mers. "Fis the warm sun of Havannah that has thus gilded thy 

 lovely and voluptuous form. Rita! ought we to pity or envy him 

 for whom love hath brought thee here followed by a single esquire ? 

 You visit an old tower in ruins, you, a duehess, you, whose very 

 menials are of gentle birth, you, proud offspring and widow of the 

 grandees of Spain, you, whose ancestors, descendants of a royal fa- 

 mily, have rightful claims to the crown of Castile 



The slight movement which Rita made aroused the handsome re- 

 cluse from his meditation as from a dream. Raising his head, he 

 perceived the duchess resting upon the arm of his chair, and gazing 

 upon him with idolizing interest. 



"'Tis thou, then," cried he, with an expression of tender love. 

 " Thou wast there." 



" Yes, 'tis I, Henry ; 'tis I, thy tempter/' she replied, smiling as 

 she stooped to kiss his brow. 



" Hush, hush," said the young man, moving his hand gently to re- 

 press her warmth, whilst a slight cloud passed rapidly over his coun- 

 tenance, 



" Child," exclaimed the duchess, throwing her arms around his 

 neck, " ever scrupulous as a tender maid. Come, I would convince 

 thee, and soothe thy timid conscience ;" and Rita, seated upon his 

 knee, rested her hand on Henry's shoulder. He sat, thoughtful and 

 absorbed ; his hand was cold and icy in the fevered grasp of the 

 duchess. " Henry,'' cried she impatiently, *' is it thus thou receivest 

 me? Thou dost no longer love me." " O, Rita," exclaimed Henry, 

 pointing to her miniature, " how could I fail of loving thee ? Hast 

 thou not changed my life ; and this new life that thou hast given me 

 is it not all love for thee ? To love thee, to call thee mine, is now 

 my sole hope of life.*' " And thou hast no longer a feeling of regret, 

 my Henry," said the duehess, as she parted playfully his graceful 

 hair. 



" Yes, Rita, yes ; when thou art gone I feel the stingings of a 

 keen remorse, for 1 have broken a holy vow ; and now, perchance, 1 

 shall abjure the obscure and pious life for which I feel that I was 

 born. Reared far from the world, my passions, my feelings, my 

 ideas, all slumbered within me. I had then but one single love, Rita, 

 and that was heaven. My faith got strength in solitude ; my only 

 aim, the cloister. Yes, Rita, the cloister. Hadst thou but seen the 

 abbey of Kandem, shaded by those ancient chestnut groves and those 

 soaring rocks, " hadst thou but heard the sea-breeze moaning through 

 its sombre vaulted galleries, then mightest thou conceive the charm 

 by which such prospect held me; a creation of my own, the ardent 

 wish to pass there a peaceful and a quiet life. There would my life 



