Thrs ycutl: looked upon his father with a grateful H, ale. and then those three. bound together by one strong band of love. sat dowu to the tempting board. on which Pauline had heaped the richest products of her garden, reserved especially or this last supper tche partaken with her son. It was a pleasant meal. pleasant yet and, [or farewe is between those fond parents and that only child were to be uttered with the coming morn, and though cheerful worzle were spoken, yet at the thought- of the approaching arting a shadow would ufttimes flit over t e father's brow. or mzklen the moist eye of the mother, as {Em y rested on the youthful face of he: durli 2:3. l Guieepp-r, tut), felt his soul heavy within ‘ him,and in met the loving glances of those who hp. i watched with never weary- ing love his x-hildhocd and his youth, as he looked for m last time on every dear and familiar oh i «:2, around him-â€"cn friends and home. on revues of beauty that had never pulled upon Li 4 eye, and which were linked with the m, .41.- m to harmoniesupon which his soul had furl “harmonies in which he was no inure to iululgeâ€"nay, which he was hence-(om; l': renounce for a severe and hated aucuu ; he could scarcely constrain himself to M; pear cheerful and unembarâ€" raeaeal ml ihu repast was ended. But he did so, {we b; the strong power of affection eumimmfl bright smiles to his lips. and gay words to his tongue. while his heart, beneath ll: outward disguise, was about ready in mm with its overcharged emo- tion. Seix'ug', Mm ï¬rst {notable moment to re- tire from the table, he took his violin, and bending: over in to hide the unbidden moia. cure [hub dimmed his eyes, he broke forth, after 1*. 91:2er yrelude, into a strain exceed- ing ovary farmer etfort of his skill. So clear and ('3'; 1‘. inige ware the gone: be elicited. ___:..2 (near nuu v.3 “mum 'vv-v -..- --â€"-.. _. e†H ,, , so eloquent their expression, so varied and so â€Tent, the sounds that the very soul of Pmlnm. and even that of the sterner Pietro, hung entranced upon the melody. It was. indeeil. a thrilling and impassioned burst ml genim. in which the ardent youth had given nzost eloquent utterance to the deep feelings: which no language could express. and his flushed cheek. hia kindling and uplifted eye. betrayed the enthusiasm which rendered him capable of producing and enjo yin g1 such celestial harmony. 1 “-1“- __:_a-:l :. "an“..- 51 Thus. much time. which by its pleasant aid would have passed too rapidly away. hung weunly upon his hands. but yet, though he had formed few acquaintances, he was not without some agreeable resour~ oes. For to a mind constituted like his, painting and sculpture, as well as poetry and music, presented attractions of no common kind. and reï¬ned and luxurious Padua possessed in her rare collections many exquisite chef d‘wuvres of art, which were the subjects of his untiring study and delight; statuary from the chisels of the world's great masters. and Lpaintings. from the _ -_- mnmn manta“: stun-v â€WWII) studios of those whose magic pencils stamped the lifeless canvass with the glow- ing hues of their own immortal genius. Amid such objects the impassioned nature of Guieeppe found food for its deep long- ings; in contemplating these his imagine.- tion quickened, his conceptions became met. his sspireticns loftier, his intellect ily ripened and expanded, and the love of the beautiful and the perfect became an intense desire in his soul. _ luwunv “urn-y ..._ ._-.. _. In harmony with these inward develop- ments. increased his natural passion for music. and soon wherever its eound was heard. whether in the gloom of the vaulted cathedral or beneath the dome of a theatre. there was he seen. a rapt and breathless listener. Daily. his ï¬rm resolve to bend his mind to study became weaker; the genius of harmony had again touched his spirit with her potent wand, and by degrees ngusu wsvu use. in"... ...~__, W..- V, his instrument forsook its case, and responded rsvishingly to his enamored touch. His surpassing skill, rarely as he manifested it in the presence of others, soon gained him reputation among his fellow students. and a. sin is tons of his violin was the signal lot crow s to gather in his spart- ments to linen to his wonderful psriorm- 81106. THE PASSIONATE VIOLINIST: Nor Wua his fame conï¬ned to the walls 0! me university. but wont abroad (making inn» of Love, Music and Adventure. in numerous circles general interest and curiosity. Many noble amateurs of the city honored him with invitations to their soireee musicale. but he shunned the aplen- dor and publicity of such a debut, and turned resolutely from many a stately alaoe the portals of which Were held open y patricien hands for him to enter. Once only. at a smell fete given by a noble lady whose eon was his friend and fellow student. was Guiaeppe won to attend and lend his aid to the musical entertainment of the evening. on which occasion he carried away the palm from every other performer. .A -3: A- L:.. “'"v "-v râ€"-â€"'-'â€"- ""I , .. Nay. such an eclat did he then add to his already brilliant reputation that he wae‘ afterwards solicited in a courteous letter‘ from the Bishop of Padua, a rich and‘ haughty prelate. to bestow upon his niece. Dona Ianthe. instructions in that divine art in which he so greatly excelled. This proposition, however, Guiseppe respectfully but promptly declined. little aware at the time whatagolden opportunity for ripening the seeds of future sweet springing hopes he was casting away by his refusal. Thus day by day, while his aversion to the bar- ren ï¬eld of jurisprudence, whose ï¬rst barrier he had scarcely passed, deepened into repugnance, the master passion of his soul obtained more than its wonted supre- macy; Yet he did not, irkscme as they were. neglect his studies. because the deep sentiment of ï¬lial affection which he cherished made him desirous if possible to fulï¬l the expectations of his parente,but he no longer sorupled to devote those hours allotted for recreation to the enjoyment of his beloved and long_ neglected instrument; With renewed delight he again touched its chords. wandering away in solitary places, that undisdurbed his spirit might drink in the harmonies which his hand as by a magic touch awakened. One quiet nook there was upon the banks of the Brenta,‘ which he made his faVOrite haunt, not only \ on account of its own sequestered loveliness, but because it appeared wholly unfre- quented, quite isolated as it were from the world. Spreading trees and interlacing vines enclosed a small area. of emerald turf, so smooth and bright one;could almost have imagined it had been expressly pre- pared fer the revels of Oberon and his elfln court. It was vocal with the songs of a thousand birds. whose liquid strains blended harmoniously with the flowing ‘waves that sparkled and flashed through the leafy screen as they glided swiftly on their course. In this lovely temple of nature the genius of Guiseppe found new inspirations, and there he tasted a rapture scarcely less intoxicating than that which he had often experienced in the little gar- den house whioh overlooked the queenly Adriatic in his native Pirano. Either one bright and beautiful morning when a holiday gave him freedom from his studies be bent his steps, starting early from his couch to seek the shade and silence for which he languished. His soul, like a ï¬nely strung instrument. felt its chordsl jarred by the rude contacts of daily life. and with sweet and dreamy music floating in his ears. he threw himself upon the green award. and awoke upon his instru- ment such sounds as made the wild war- blers of the wood suspend their songs to listen. Hour alter hour passed on uncon- sciously. yet there he lay, his delicate touch giving instinctive utterance to the indwell- ing harmony of his spirit. while his ardent upward eye, piercing the network of over- arching boughs, ï¬xed its gaze upon the oloudless azure of the sky with an intensity and fervor that seemed to ask for inspira- ‘tion from that {cunt of glory and o! light. luvu LAVIM .uâ€" â€".._- v- v, And thus reclining, the melodies of nature blending deliciously with those his art created. a calm langour stole impercep- tibly over the young enthusiast’s senses and lulled them_gentlx jute} deep unp'ro- ken slumber. But while thus ixfsenaible to surrounding objects the mind within paused not in its ever active and myste- rious operations. and a train of wild images passed before it. growing poi-chance out of the dreamy thoughts and occupation of the preceding hours. - , a \,2__--!£ ‘L..:...'«.¢ in vuv -_..__ -Vw, , . r-.. a v As he slept he fancied himself striving to execute the solo, which as performed by ; Veracini in the church of Bt. Giovanno.‘ had so transported him with rapture, and‘ he thought that as its last note died away the devil suddenly appeared before him, and saluting him with reverence. offered to serve him for one year, on condition that during that time he would impart to him his own skill on the violin. Guiseppe readily yielded to this proposition and the compact was ï¬nished; but previously to giving‘his new and strange attendant a ï¬rst lessou,the youth inquired if he could play at all upon the instrument, upon which Satan modestly replied. " that probably he might be able to pick out a tune, as he had often made the attempt." When brandishing the ,L_‘_!_ L- Luv-“v 'uw w'â€"-_K-. bow for a moment above the chords. he commenced playing with a bold and rapid stroke, and at once executed a splendid sonata, so strange and wildly beautiful that in the whole course of his life, as Gui- seppe often said afteiward, he had never heard or imagines! anything so exquisite. A“ -“L A-.. will“ vl .wwn._--- â€"_J He listened in breathless amazement till the unearthly performer ceased and then in violent emotion he awoke. Trembling in every limb. his heart beating tumultuonsly and the perspiration standing in large drops upon his brow. he looked eagerly around to descry the demon of his dream, it dream it could have been, whose strange impression was stamped so vividly upon i his mind. But all was still and calmâ€"the birds had ceased their songs, and sat screen- ‘ ing themselves from the noontide heat beneath the softly whispering leaves. which seemed to hold low converse with the mur- muring waves that broke in gentle ripples on the grassy shore. No trace of eleven hoof \ or scorching eye was seen to mar the quiet ‘heauty of the eylvan temple, and with the music of that divine sonata ringing in his ears, he seized the violin and strove to recall the ravishing strains. IIJVI-o- v..- - _. . Again and againa he repeated them, but never attaining the perfection he desired. and many times in despair of success he was on the point of dashing his instru- ment into a thousand pieces, but still he persevered. and unsatisï¬ed as he was with the resemblance his performance bore to its wonderful original, he yet could not deny to himselt that it was more splendid and striking than anything he had ever pro- duced. and in remembrance o! the strange and mysteriona manner of its communica- tion. he called it the " Sonata del Diavolo.†which name it ever after retained) w vu u"..- .v v.v.. Time sped on but Guiseppe remained inaenaible to its lapse. forgettnl even that. the clan and thrilling tones of bin viohn. so unlike the low molcdios which in this spot it was his habit to elicit from it, might reach some distant ear and draw unbidden listeners to his retreat. till in the reiterated execution of a diflioult bar he was startled by a sonorone " bravo I" and turning (ï¬nickly round he saw a handsome boy in t e dress of a page. holding back the droop- ing bonghs that swept the green turf and regarding him with a face in which curiosity and admiration were ludicrously blended. Guiseppe both indignant and sur- prised at this unwelcome intrusion turned "‘ 'UL ~A \_......heu ‘nnnirv tnwgydg tlflau Ru. Mun Uunvnvvâ€"v __,, with a look of haughty Inquiry towards the stranger. who retreating a step at the glance, but still grasping the uplifted branch said in an agologqtio tone: . 0.--. Lab 2‘ man uruuuu unu- au u... ur---u, , “I pritliee pardon, eignor; but it was thy marvellous music that drew me hither â€"we have heard it often before. yet knew not whence it came, for it seemed as it Were in the air; but this morning thou hast made it so audible that I had only to follow the sound alang yon winding path to ï¬nd thee in this pretty alcove." “ I wished not to be within ear-shot of any, nor dreamed I that in this sequestered spot__I_ could be 30." said Guieeppe coldly. 4 tun- n! Mu: lmnlitv spat 1 couru ms nu. m..- v..." “ Thou knowest little of thy locality then," answered the page ; “ since this very spot which thou hast appropriated for thine orchestra. forms a part of the private whose livery 1, his unworthy servant, have the honor to wear.†“Is it possible thou speakest truth?" said Guiseppe in a tone or chagrin. “ But," he added quickly, “ I was an ass to hope for solitude in any place within the envi- rent: of Padua. By the mass there is more of undisturbed quiet to be enjoyed in the busy little seaport of Pirano than within a league of this old city, that like a seething cauldron overflows its brim and dis. turbs the whole neighborhood with its effer- vescence. But I will away Sir Page before I am driven from these lordly domains. and it thy master be chated by my intru- sion thou mayest say to him it was through ignorance that I offended, and that the sin shall not be again repeated ;" and with a flushed cheek and impatient hand the sen- sitive musician shut the instrument in its case and turned to depart. “ Nay. Signor, thou art over hasty.†said the page earnestly, as letting the green 1 branches fall from his hand he stepped for. w ward into the little area where Guiseppe stood. “ My information was not given to abide thy intrusion, but only to excuse my own upon thy privacy, by giving thee to understand that thou wart in close vicinity to music-loving ears. Thou art ignorant perehance that the lord bishop is a patron of the dime art. and most of his household are skilled on various instruments. so that with such melody as thou dost make. thou wilt be welcome, sit where thou choosest on the domain of his reverence; for it is his pleasure to render honor to all of thy call- ing who give proof of such excellence as thou hast attained? _ a ‘u, 7~â€"â€"-‘...-_L uuvu Hana alive-mu... " He hath taste then and discernment this lord] y bishop whom thou dost serve, and so I yield him all due respect,†said Gui- eeppe. " But I am already too much enamored of my art. which it is forbidden me to practice, as I have done of late to the neglect of graver studies; and so, though the good bishop leave me master of this lovely temple, I may not worship in it, but strive to drown in the subtle learning of the schools the voice of that heavenly inspi- ration which speaks in celestial accents to my goul.â€_ .. u; ._-L _- 1......3...‘ ‘hn n‘n- my Bum. “ I trust thou wilt not so despise the glo- rious gitt with which thou art endowed, signer" said the page. "Seldom indeed have I heard such enchanting melody as thine, and to-morrow will I bend hither- werd my steps, hoping thou wilt not do thyself and others so much wrong as to carry into execution the purpose thou hast just new named? ,,-33 n.-: ..... u m‘un‘: 'I' “U" “V" â€unavai- " I know not," said Guiaeppe, "what I may. but only what I should do. for the path of my duty is too plain to be mistaken. and if I would follow it I must avoid this epot,for the tempter dwells here. and while sleeping in the shade yonder he came to me and taught me that entrancing music which attracted thee to listen." I'- .1,, _-.._ "una- wuuhwv'vâ€" ._V_ , " Thou art mad surely." said the page. glancing round with a look of terror that made Guieeppe smile. “But it matters not to me whether angel of light or prince of darkness taught theeao divine a strainâ€"- I wear a relic of the true cross," and he devoutly kissed a small silken bag which he plucked from his bosom, "and guarded by its blessed power I will defy both eaten and his legions to hear once more that revighing sonata.†, A, I.___ :L -_.a AL-.. Katina-M5 uv uuuuu " Thou dost deserve to hear it and thou shalt,†said Guiseppe. “ since thou heat a sonleoospable of enjoyingit. Therefore. on the morrow I will be here at sunset and if the shadows of twilight do not make a. coward of thee, I will strive to play to thee so well that even the devil himself shall have no cause to be ashamed of his pupil. But now farewell; there are clouds gather- ing yonder and I must hasten back to the oitypefore the shower falls." , ,\,‘_L__ -._J _ -1-.. vnv Ilvlv-v v ..__ V “ I will show thee a shorter and a. plea- eenter path which thou mayest travera in safety when thou wilt." said the page as Guieeppe was turning from him. " It leads this way and will bring thee through fra- grant ehruhberiee and shaded groves to the very suburb of Padua; as I return to the relace Iwill point it out to thee so that ii )u oenet not go astray". ‘ I °_, .MEJ‘._-- vwâ€"w- I." av .â€" e 7 Guiseppe readily accepted his guidance, and issuing together from their retreat they struokintoa narrow path which became gradually broader as it wound onward through cultivated groundsmhose graceful undulations were beautifully diversiï¬ed by wood and stream. It terminated at afsiry lake, from whose borders the eye caught a glimpse of the lordly palace. with its mar- ble walls and glistening colonsdes. gleaming forth from amid the luxuriant foliage in which it was embosomed. From the end of this small sheet of water several paths diverged in different direction. and point- ing to one of them the page bade Guiseppe follow it till it brought him to a ruined tOWer that stood alone on the skirt of a milestnut grove, through which he would shortly pass, and from whence he would descry the city lying immediately before him. unw Giziaeppe promised to observe his direc. tions. and the sound of a hunting horn being at that moment heard, the page bade ’ Mozart says. in speaking oi this singular pro- duction. “ 'I‘ime, and tho wonderml flighm 0' modern petidnners. have deprived this sonata of anything diabolical which it once possessed. but it has great nm and originality. and contains «iimculiios of no common magnitude oven at the ï¬Ã©sï¬ii day." hia new friend a hurried hrswell. and turning his stage towards the palace, bounded_over a edge of myrtle and dua- ap area. uiseppe lost no time in pursuing the path which Fabian. the page. had pointed out to him, and as he penetrated deeper and deeper into this labyrinthine turniugs, at every onward step anew world of beauty was opened to his admiring gaze. To him the fair face of nature was always lovely, and every changeiul aspect of her glorious features awakened rapture in his soul. ‘And so he loitered on his pleasant path. .chequered with glancing light and shade,‘ pausing often to admire the view. as through 1 some green vista he beheld the marble walls 01 the palace gleaming among the dark groves of orange and of ilax in which it was embosomed. or caught a glimpse of the blue Brenta. " winding at its own sweet will," between its shady banks. till the ruins of the old abbey appeared sud- denly in view, reminding him that he was approaching the termination of his walk. ,,_L ____- -_-_a ‘tA'A‘IA ldm uyvnkunâ€"n -â€"- --_,,, ,, A single turret rose erect before him, moss grown and crowned with mantling vines. and around its base. covering the broad slope of a green declivity, there stood many a crumbling arch and broken pillar. beautiful in their decay, and indicating by the wide surface over which they were scattered, the extent and importance of the original building. of which they once formed a part. A delapidated wall defined the limits of the former courtyard. in the centre of which a bright fountain still threw up its ceaseless jet of water, and again, in a diamond shower fell into a granite basin, over whose scolloped edge it trickled with a pleasant sound upon the green herbage below. It was a sweet spot, peeping forth from a grove of ancient chest. nuts that nearly encircled it. and ï¬lled ‘with breezy sounds, and fragrant odors ‘exhaled from innumerable flowers, fair itenants once of the Brotherhood's well l kept garden, but which now, untrained by lholy hands, sprang up in wild profusion wherever the idle winds waited their seeds, wreathing with gay chaplets the old gray columns, and crowning the broken arch- i ways with forms and hues of beauty. Guiseppe's eye crank in with delight the rare loveliness of the scene. spread out like a living panorama before himâ€"glancing joyously on verdant hill and dale. and misty mount. and following the course of the sparkling Brenta as it wound onward through a paradise of beauty, circling in its arms the distant city. that, crowned‘ with dome and turret, rose silent and beautiful, like some rich painting against the glowing background of a lovely sapphire sky. “ ’Twas distance lent enohantment ‘ to the view."â€"at least so thought Guiseppe, * though not in the exact words of the post, as he remembered the populous and busy life that was ever astir within those walls whose softened outlines. bathed in the glory of that rich Italian sunlight, formed so quiet and beautiful an object in the land ,4 .L_ -L_-_..LL LLAL Lh. ‘1"... uuâ€" ~vâ€"wâ€"â€"â€" _. scape. He sighed at the thought that his home lay in the midst of those crowded thoroughfares, yet rejoiced still to feel him- self alone with nature, whose eweet influ- ences breathed a. delicious freshness over his wearied spiritâ€"wenried with its struggle between ï¬lial love and duty, and the strength of that absorbing passion which maintained over him suoh_resie_tle§s sway: Leaning against the pedestal of. an old sun-dial which. although halt buried in flowers. still told upon its diso the rapid flight of time,Guiseppe stood lost in reverie. with his eyes ï¬xed sometimes upon the far- oï¬ veins. and then upon the moss-grown tower. that alone of the ruined pile remained entire, when he fancied he saw a shadow pass before one of the narrow win- dows that appeared here and there, deep set in the rough massive masonry. . “ Can that lonely chamber contain an inhabitant ?" he murmured to himself, and with the rapidity of thought his fancy pictured the worn form and venerable fea- tures of the anchorite who might there have ï¬xed his abode. when suddenly a white hand parted the ivy that screened the window. and then a face like one o! Guido‘e angels was thrust momentarily forth. a quick glance oaet abroad. and the fair head was withdrawn. the thick vinee fell heavily down, and immediately the tones of a silver voice were heard enrolling. as the ecngetreea descended the winding etaire some etanzae c! an old ballad that told the legend of the tower. "- _- “er __: -I..:..A:..n lvbvuu v- -â€" The melody iteelf. so rich and plaintive, would have held the music-loving Guiseppe a spell-bound listener, even had not a natu- ral eurosity to behold the invisible singer prompted him, as the voice every instant came nearer, silently to await her appear- ance. The old sun-dial stood right facing, and at no greet di_s_ta_noe_ from the low osteru, through which she must emerge mm the tower. and a narrow well-trodden path diverged from it, traversing the ancient garden and court-yard, towards the paiace. And there,flxed as astatue, the youth stood, as two temales issued from the low arched door, and with light steps threading the path which wound close beside him would have passed on without perceiving him but for an involuntary movement on his part, which suddenly betrayed his presence and attracted their observation towards him: _ ,AA vvuv-vw-u... -7" _..V _,_,7, A quick start betrayed their surprise at this discovery. and with a. half suppressed exclamation they paused. when the elder of the two spoke for a moment in a. low and earnest tone to her companion, then slightly heelteting. aha advanced towards Guieeppe! and said gully, ,AA ‘L-__4..â€" that uuluwryv. an... uâ€"._ ow--.’ , " Art thou aware. young stranger. that thou dost incur a heavy penalty by thy trespass on this holy ground, and were the old monks who once trod these walks yet living in their cells. I warrant me thou would‘st not escape without a night’s vigil in Father Hugo‘s haunted tower. and the gift of a silver chalice for the altar‘to boot." ~ - - J .7:_sn_1_. In _--r:.\A(1nL llllv- u I’ll'v- -..â€".-.-_ -__ " Say’at thou no. (air lad?!“ ieplied Gui- sepp-qin the game strain of light badiuagg “~A~‘ u nullyu nu Inn-v nu"..- ..--.~.-n _ â€"" Since such are my deserts, then. and the reverend Fathers are not here to read my doom. I aubmit me in all humility to thy decree, whatever thou in thy wisdom mayet see lit to pronounce." " We will study to be lenient since thou art so docile," said the lady. " and require of thee in oxpiation of thy offence. naught save a few brief touches on that marvel- lous instrument of thine, whose tones. ii I mistake not, we have often heard of lateâ€"- distant and faint. and unknowing whence they came, have deemed them. " 'Molmlloe divine, flushing from {ounts' to mortal vision sonlml 3‘ " 1'u'firo'li‘aiialrt be obeyed. lady." said Gui- aoppe," Yet." he added with graceful modes- tï¬. “ this is but a poor instrument save in t 6 hands of a master. and that I claim not yet to be, although my aspirations point to the time when I may stand beside Corolli. and share with him an equal mead of metit.†A - on . L In __zj LI.- WUKIU " That time ie not far distant," said the lady, “it indeed it be not alresd arrived â€"tor I have heard Coreili, and antitul and flowing are his strains. but they went. the soul of sweetness and at passion that in thine awakens every liegeuer‘to regture." I†Dull-IV “VII-“VOID. Viv-J -------- . A bright glow of mingled pride and pie» sure flushed the face and torehesd ot Gui~ seppe as these words of praise fell lrom the beautiful lips of the speaker ; yet conscious how greatly they exceeded his desert, he said with a. gay ayd ingenyogs smile, .‘ 3.... Oâ€"nn can; "use. v- 0") â€".._ _-. “ Thy cummendetious. lady. so far tran- scend my merits that I must perforce dis- cern the sstire which lurks heuesth thy honied words, and it teaches me u salutary lesson of humility. which I promise thee shall not be cast sway unheeded." †Now. by my hslldoml thou dost wil- fully pervert my Words," said the Indy with pretty pettishuessâ€"“ for I meant naught like thisâ€"neither, I vow dost thou so understand it, since if thou wilt but recall the night of the Msrohess. del Mon- ‘ti's fete. when thou didst bear sway the palm of victory from the ï¬rst performers of Italy, thou wilt confess that I have ample warrant for my words." ,,.___...4. In)!" nu Ohnl: walo “int-onu- -v- â€"- -_ VV, “ And then wash present, lady. on that night," said Guiseppe inqmringlv. “ I remember now." he continued, as she bowed assent. “ I remember now, for how could I ' forget. it, one among that galaxy of beauty which was my inspiration at the moment -one star more glorious than the rest. and now again I hail its light as it sparkles far above me. a oynosure of beauty in the heavens.†As he spoke the young man bent low before her who stood a living personiï¬ca- Ashe spoke the young man bent low before her who stood a living personifica- tion of ideal beauty in his path. though even while he offered her this homage of admiration. his roving glance strayed from her proud and commanding features to the angel face of the yoang girl at her side. who in her sweet unconscious loveliness, seemed formed to win all hearts and sub. due them by the might of her gentleness. “Is it in the schools 0! Padua, young eignor, that thou hast learned to coin thy cunning fletteries?" asked the lady, an arch smile curving her ripe lip till it looked like the very bow of Cupid. bent ready for the flight of his most fatal arrows. “ It so," she added. " thou art an‘apt scholar ifor thy years." . a n u _ 4-3-- _-_I:-.1 “In; LUI- Ill] Jug..." “ Too apt, lady," he gaily replied, “ to be outdone by one of thy tender sex in fair speech, for where gentle hands lavish game, he would be an unoourteoue ohurl to render back augmg lees sparkling‘in return." ,, _: 4|...L ._L:nl. own “may": .VMU "r“""“'â€"u 7,7 , " It was in repayment then of that which thou didst receive that thou framed’et thy flattering speech. and may not therefore be viewed as the spontaneous oï¬ering of thy sincerity,†said the lady. a. shade of oha~ grin, in spite of the bright smiles that veiled it, becoming suddenly visible on her countenance. A.,........ m Vvuuuvu “““““ " Nay. by my faith! fair lady, the offer- ing was from my heartâ€"aye from my heart of hearte"â€"aaid Guiaeppe as slightly inclining towards her, he laid his hand with an expressive gesture on his breast; 1..-... LI.â€" " yet. had Ir not argwn courage from thy kindness, I confess to thee, I would never have been emboldened to pgesent itz" “Thou wilt prove ere long a learned canniet." said the lady laughing; "but all this time thou torgetteat. wilfully I doubt not, the penance we ordained thee, and I so long to hear again thy music! Have I not raved of his eonatae, sweet Ienthe.till than too art all but dying with impatience to hear them {2“ - A- ... IQAI, w navy- ~u-.â€" . " In truth thou hast, dear aunt." said the beautiful girl whom she addressed, and as she spoke a. smile like the ï¬rst ray of sun- rise on a. vernal landscape shed its light over her lovely face, giving an irresistible charm to its expression and heightened brillisnoy to the exquisite hues of her oom- plexion. Her voice gas low and of a. reed- A:,__.__r- __.- I:-..---.I r. ...... _-_ .__-- ,. , like sweetness. and Gnieeppe’e eye lingered admiringly upon the youthful beauty, the elder lady seemed uneasy, and annoyed that another should divide with her, even the passing homage of the young and grace- ful student. But before she could entirely regain the attention which her vanity coveted. they were interrupted by the appearance of the page, Fabian, who was seen advancing towards them. " He brings some message from my uncle.†aaid Ianthe, and she went forward quickly to meet him, but returned almost instantly, (ellqwed by the pegeâ€". luuyuu‘ uv ; llv' vvâ€"-.‘.- ‘,. " Ay. dost thoumweeo aunt." said the ;fair girl whom she addressed. and her :voica sounded to Guieap a liko the low Innel tones of (he wiud- arp. when the Iliuht-breezs gently touches its Mrmgs. “And you," v-he added. "with a lovely blush, "I Would not, um. thou constrain tho young atrauggnr over much, sincelm “ My lord,†he said. “ desires the imme- diate presence of the Countess Bertha. and the Lady Ianthe. as some strangers of dis- tinction have arrived at the palace, to whom he wishes to present them. More- over, signer.†he said addressing Guiseppe, "I am commanded by his reverence to seek thee out, which I was now on my way to do; but having found thee here. 1 need but deliver hie,message,which is, that thou present thyself at the palace tomorrow evening. where thou wilt meet many rare rformers. among whom. as my lord ishop was (fleased to say. the student of Padna wcul not rank the lowest." ‘ "1am beholden to thy master for his courtesy, sir page,†said Guiseppe. “ et :marvel on what he grounds his gel en yopinion of my poor, skill, inasmuch as it ) hath never been tested in his presence.†“ But it hath. signer." returned the page â€"" once at the Villa 0! a. noble lady near Pedue,and again this morning when he heard thy music and questioned me as to whence it came; so I told him of our ren- coutre, describing thee and thy mode of playing. and he recognised at once the student minetrel whom he hath long wished to meet, and sent me forth to ï¬nd thee, with the mesenge which I have but now delivered to thee." " mely .I owe thy lord hearty thanks for his good win and kindness," said Guiseppe, .. butâ€"J‘ _ . â€Mir " Nay. we will have no buts in the way of thy obedience to the lord blsnop‘a com- mands," said tho Countess Bertha.break- inn gully 1n upon the young man’s medi- tated apology. “ He loves not opposnion to his will, and ill brooks a slight in return for offered kindness. What say'at thou, Ianthe. do I not‘counsel him wisoly ‘2" A_!3 AI_-