ter, it was not likely to be permanent. There was too little in
it of the actual world, too much of the mental; it was more the homage
of mind, than the tribute of affection; rather the irrepressible
appreciation of genius, than the spontaneous effusion of love. His
expressions of regret at separation were warm and tender; but it is
probable the young friends were both ignorant of the nature of their
feelings. They parted tearfully, as a brother and sister would have
said farewell; and the next few months, with their throng of sweet
remembrances, fostered the growth of emotions very unlike, in truth,
but equally kind and hopeful. And now there came a long interval of
melancholy tranquillity in my life, for it was not until two years
afterward that our darling returned. Her letters during the interval
were frequent, and her ambition to excel deepened daily in intensity.

"One year more," she wrote, "and this routine of application will be
over, I shall come to you no longer a child, but fitted, I trust, for
a congenial companion. What bright pictures my fancy draws for that
time! Surely the future is a land of surpassing beauty, if but one
half its radiant hopes be realized."

"I have no patience with Theresa's visionary fancies," said Gerald,
petulently, as he glanced over this letter, "I really believe she
prizes books and pictures, and her idle dreams, more than the hearts
that love her."

I have lingered long over this recording of a childhood that lent my
loneliness many pleasures; and I must trace more rapidly and briefly
the sadder portion of my recollections. Over the next two years let us
pass in silence; they saw the last shining of pleasure upon Theresa's
experience; they were the resting-place between her young hopefulness
and the perplexing cares and disappointments of her energetic and
unsatisfied womanhood. Never afterward did life appear to her so
rapturous a gift, and intellectual superiority so enchanting, but the
hereafter grew silent with its promises, and her spirit weary with its
cares.

It was not until some months afterward that the journal I am about to
quote fell into my hands; but I copy some of its fragments, to portray
its writer's feelings. Ah, me! such trustful hearts as hers are those
experience depresses soonest.

"How happy I have been this summer! I believe those who have spent
their childhood in seclusion, and formed their first associations from
the lovely creations of nature, l