y return--they are the emblem of the love that receives and repays
tenfold--the emblem of the heart that drunk thy rays, and owes to thee
the germ of the treasures that it proffers to thy smile. I send these
by one whom thou wilt receive for her own sake, if not for mine. She,
like us, is a stranger; her fathers' ashes lie under brighter skies:
but, less happy than we, she is blind and a slave. Poor Nydia! I seek
as much as possible to repair to her the cruelties of Nature and of
Fate, in asking permission to place her with thee. She is gentle,
quick, and docile. She is skilled in music and the song; and she is a
very Chloris to the flowers. She thinks, Ione, that thou wilt love her:
if thou dost not, send her back to me.

'One word more--let me be bold, Ione. Why thinkest thou so highly of
yon dark Egyptian? he hath not about him the air of honest men. We
Greeks learn mankind from our cradle; we are not the less profound, in
that we affect no sombre mien; our lips smile, but our eyes are
grave--they observe--they note--they study. Arbaces is not one to be
credulously trusted: can it be that he hath wronged me to thee? I think
it, for I left him with thee; thou sawest how my presence stung him;
since then thou hast not admitted me. Believe nothing that he can say to
my disfavor; if thou dost, tell me so at once; for this Ione owes to
Glaucus. Farewell! this letter touches thy hand; these characters meet
thine eyes--shall they be more blessed than he who is their author. Once
more, farewell!'

It seemed to Ione, as she read this letter, as if a mist had fallen from
her eyes. What had been the supposed offence of Glaucus?--that he had
not really loved! And now, plainly, and in no dubious terms, he
confessed that love. From that moment his power was fully restored. At
every tender word in that letter, so full of romantic and trustful
passion, her heart smote her. And had she doubted his faith, and had
she believed another? and had she not, at least, allowed to him the
culprit's right to know his crime, to plead in his defence?--the tears
rolled down her cheeks--she kissed the letter--she placed it in her
bosom: and, turning to Nydia, who stood in the same place and in the
same posture:

'Wilt thou sit, my child,' said she, 'while I write an answer to this
letter?'

'You will answer it, then!' said Nydia, coldly. 'Well, the slave that
accompanied me will take back your answer.'

'For you,' said Ione, '