iations with Ducie are sweet
and pleasant. Will they always be so?'

She hit upon a key to which the passing thoughts of Ferdinand too
completely responded, but he restrained the mood of his mind. As she
grew grave, he affected cheerfulness. 'My Henrietta must always be
happy,' he said, 'at least, if her Ferdinand's love can make her so.'

She did not reply, but she pressed his hand. Then, after a moment's
silence, she said, 'My Ferdinand must not be low-spirited about dear
Armine. I have confidence in our destiny; I see a happy, a very happy
future.'

Who could resist so fair a prophet? Not the sanguine mind of the
enamoured Ferdinand Armine. He drank inspiration from her smiles, and
dwelt with delight on the tender accents of her animating sympathy.
'I never shall be low-spirited with you,' he replied; 'you are my good
genius. O Henrietta! what heaven it is to be together!'

'I bless you for these words. We will not go to Armine to-day. Let us
walk. And to speak the truth, for I am not ashamed of saying anything
to you, it would be hardly discreet, perhaps, to be driving about the
country in this guise. And yet,' she added, after a moment's hesitation,
'what care I for what people say? O Ferdinand! I think only of you!'

That was a delicious ramble which these young and enamoured creatures
took that sunny morn! The air was sweet, the earth was beautiful,
and yet they were insensible to everything but their mutual love.
Inexhaustible is the converse of fond hearts! A simple story, too, and
yet there are so many ways of telling it!

'How strange that we should have ever met!' said Henrietta Temple.

'Indeed, I think it most natural,' said Ferdinand; 'I will believe it
the fulfilment of a happy destiny. For all that I have sighed for now I
meet, and more, much more than my imagination could ever hope for.'

'Only think of that morning drive,' resumed Henrietta, 'such a little
time ago, and yet it seems an age! Let us believe in destiny, dear
Ferdinand, or you must think of me, I fear, that which I would not
wish.'

'My own Henrietta, I can think of you only as the noblest and the
sweetest of beings. My love is ever equalled by my gratitude!'

'My Ferdinand, I had read of such feelings, but did not believe in them.
I did not believe, at least, that they were reserved for me. And yet I
have met many persons, and seen something more, much more than falls to
the lot of women of my age. Believe me, indeed, my eye h