JO MYSTERIES OF MEMORY. 



athwart her brow. Suddenly she pauses, and, with a lingering 

 motion, lays aside her pen, — she reads what she has written — it 

 is a letter, and as her downcast eyes are fixed upon the page, a 

 thousand rapid changes flit across her face ; the hues of joy, 

 of fear, of doubt — and, last, the roseate blush Of tender hope. 

 Her task is ended, and, rising from her seat, the youthful student 

 crosses to the window, and throwing aside the ample curtains, 

 puts back the sash. The moon is up ; her path in the cerulean 

 sky is marked by a track of drifting clouds, and brighter than so 

 many diamonds, a few scattered stars glitter in that sea of purple 

 azure. The landscape is part-illumined by her beams ; its 

 character is that of solemnity and deep repose; trees of majestic 

 growth bow to the choral winds, and taper pines and firs of 

 gloomy foliage, tower upon the view. Beyond is seen a desert 

 mountain wrapt in unbroken shade, and, at its base, a sheet of 

 water, bright as a silver shield, receives upon its surface the 

 reflections of the agitated boughs. 



The young enthusiast dwells upon the scene with delight, and 

 something like inspiration mingles with her expression. She 

 seems to say, with the poet,* 



'* How beautiful is Night ! 

 A dewy freshness fills the silent air ; 

 No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, 



Breaks the serene of heaven : 

 In full orbed glory, yonder moon divine 



Rolls through the dark blue depths ; 

 Beneath her steady ray 



The desert circle spreads. 

 Like the round ocean girdled with the sky, 



How beautiful is Night !" 



But she is interrupted — one knocks at the chamber door — the 

 girl drops the thick curtains, which, closing instantaneously, 

 shut out the view ; and, desiring the applicant to enter, she 

 advances as if to meet her at the door. A female appearing, 

 delivers a packet to her mistress who motions her to retire ; she 

 obeys, and now left once more to solitude, the girl hastens to the 

 perusal of her letters. A quick blush chases away the paleness 

 of her complexion, a bright beam springs up into her eyes, 

 tearful with gladness, and a smile, again, plays around her 

 mouth. She presses the packet to her lips, and then turns to 

 break the wax. Why fades the colour upon her cheek ? Why 

 is the smile lost in that sudden shade of terror ? The seal is 

 black — death broods upon the omen, and for an instant, the 

 girl seems as if converted into stone ; but, bursting from the 

 trance, with wild alarm she rends the seal and drags the letter 

 from the envelope. She opens it, a lock of sunny hair falls 

 from the sheet — she sees it not — her heart and soul are centred 



* Souther. 



