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 and should he descend before me to the grave, the remainder of my days I'll pass within a cloister."

Exhausted by fatigue and agitation, she threw herself upon the bed, but sleep was a stranger to her eye-lids: she wept bitterly—wept o'er her misfortunes—yet wept with a kind of pleasure at the idea of her tears falling upon the pillow on which, perhaps, de Sevignie had often sighed forth her name.

The day was just dawning, when she heard the rumbling of a distant carriage. She directly started from the bed, and the next instant Theresa entered the chamber.

"My father is come, Mademoiselle (said she), and impatient for you to be gone; I have brought you a hat, and given him a bundle of things for you."

Madeline, as she tied on the hat, thanked her for her kindness and attention; and