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 There was no longer any thing earthly in me; I felt so supremely happy, that I could have died in Mimili’s arms, and flown with her on the purple pinions of eve into the regions of roseate light that dawned before us.

“Let us go!” said she at length, after a pause of such bliss as I had never yet experienced. I awoke as from a trance, gave her my arm, and we descended into the silent valleys. Neither of us could speak for some time. We had understood each other without words—love needs no interpreter.

When we had nearly reached the house, Mimili ran on before, to acquaint her father with my coming: the old man, a genuine cabinet-picture by Denner, came out to meet me, extended his nervous right hand, and squeezed mine so cordially, that I could have roared with agony. “Welcome to my house, sir,” said he, in a kind but solemn tone. “I have never yet had the happiness of entertaining one of your nation. You are the first to afford me that gratification. Share with us such as we have. We shall make no stranger of you; but while you stay here, we shall consider you as one of the family. Mimili, let us have the best that the kitchen and cellar can furnish: I will enjoy myself to-night with you, and talk, over a glass of wine, about the important events in which, as that cross shows, you have borne a part.