the upper part of her snowy bosom, visible. A dark ribbon, tied about
her waist, threw her figure into exquisite outline, and gave her that
simple elegance which at once bespeaks the harmony of due proportion.

On reaching the well she filled her vessel, and placed it on a small
mound beside her; then sitting down, she mused for some time, and
turning her eyes towards Denis's father's sighed deeply.

"It's the least," said the humble girl, "that I may look towards the
house that the only one I ever loved, or ever will love, lives in.
Little I thought when I loved him that I was standin' between him an'
God. Loved him! I wish I could say it was past. I wish I could: for I am
afeared that till my weak heart breaks it will love him still. God pity
me! It would be well for me I had never seen him! But why he should go
to Maynooth without givin' me back my promise I cannot tell."

Denis rose and approached her. Susan, on seeing him, started, and her
lover could perceive that she hastily wiped the tears from her eyes. A
single glance, however, convinced her that it was he; and such was the
guileless simplicity of her heart, joined to the force of habit, that
her face beamed with one of her wonted smiles at his appearance. This
soon passed away, and her features again resumed an expression of deep
melancholy. Our hero now forgot his learning; his polysyllables were
laid aside, and his pedantry utterly abandoned. His pride, too, was
gone, and the petty pomp of artificial character thing aside like an
unnecessary garment which only oppresses the wearer.

"Susan," said he, "I am sorry to see you look so pale and unhappy.
I deeply regret it; and I could not permit this day to pass, without
seeing and speaking to you. If I go to-morrow, Susan, may I now ask in
what light will you remember me?"

"I'll remember you without anger, Denis; with sorrow will I remember
you, but not, as I said, in anger; though God knows, and you know, the
only token you lave me to remember you by is a broken heart."

"Susan," said Denis, "it was an unhappy attachment, as circumstances
have turned out; and I wish for both our sakes we had never loved one
another. For some time past my heart has been torn different ways, and,
to tell you the truth, I acknowledge that within the last three or four
months I have been little less than a villain to you."

"You speak harshly of yourself, Denis; I hope, more so than you
deserve."

"No, Susy. With my hear