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 and scarcely could she keep herself from asking a number of questions about what she saw. While the Countess and Agatha were talking over family matters, she retired to a window which commanded a beautiful prospect of the lake, now glittering with the beams of a setting sun: the scene recalled to her mind the manner in which she had been situated the preceding evening; and the sigh of involuntary regret mingled with the pleasures of recollection.

With her father she had then viewed the retiring glories of the sun from the little lawn before their cottage;—glories which he had likened to those that attend the departure of the virtuous—calm, awful, and lovely: together they had enjoyed the fresh breeze which played around; and heard the soft voices of the peasant girls chanting the evening service to the Virgin, in which they joined, elevating their hearts like their eyes to that heaven whose goodness they experienced. Enraptured with the scene, they