iltless heart,--those pure and beautiful mysteries of an unsullied
nature which warm us to hear; and we think with a sort of wonder when we
feel how arid experience has made ourselves, that so much of the dew and
sparkle of existence still linger in the nooks and valleys, which are as
yet virgin of the sun and of mankind.

The sisters this night were more than commonly indifferent to sleep.
Madeline sate by the small but bright hearth of the chamber, in her
night dress, and Ellinor, who was much prouder of her sister's beauty
than her own, was employed in knotting up the long and lustrous hair
which fell in rich luxuriance over Madeline's throat and shoulders.

"There certainly never was such beautiful hair!" said Ellinor
admiringly; "and, let me see,--yes,--on Thursday fortnight I may be
dressing it, perhaps, for the last time--heigho!"

"Don't flatter yourself that you are so near the end of your troublesome
duties," said Madeline, with her pretty smile, which had been much
brighter and more frequent of late than it was formerly wont to be, so
that Lester had remarked "That Madeline really appeared to have become
the lighter and gayer of the two."

"You will often come to stay with us for weeks together, at least
till--till you have a double right to be mistress here. Ah! my poor
hair,--you need not pull it so hard."

"Be quiet, then," said Ellinor, half laughing, and wholly blushing.

"Trust me, I have not been in love myself without learning its signs;
and I venture to prophesy that within six months you will come to
consult me whether or not,--for there is a great deal to be said on both
sides of the question,--you can make up your mind to sacrifice your own
wishes, and marry Walter Lester. Ah!--gently, gently. Nell--" "Promise
to be quiet."

"I will--I will; but you began it."

As Ellinor now finished her task, and kissed her sister's forehead, she
sighed deeply.

"Happy Walter!" said Madeline.

"I was not sighing for Walter, but for you."

"For me?--impossible! I cannot imagine any part of my future life that
can cost you a sigh. Ah! that I were more worthy of my happiness."

"Well, then," said Ellinor, "I sighed for myself;--I sighed to think we
should so soon be parted, and that the continuance of your society would
then depend not on our mutual love, but the will of another."

"What, Ellinor, and can you suppose that Eugene,--my Eugene,--would not
welcome you as warmly as myself? Ah! you misjudg