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Rh times reproached me. The time of our intended nuptials was fixed by the Count’s letters from Berne, before I consulted the warning—but say, would not any one in my situation be rendered miserable,—even sunk in despondency by the thought, that death inevitably awaits her with the approach of that event to which she had looked forward as the source of her greatest happiness? Now, then, I have told you all;—for, to-morrow, the Count will certainly arrive. In two days afterwards we are to meet publicly at the altar of St Mary’s church.”

“So, then—this very day,”—cried Amelia, turning deadly pale, and looking at a small clock on the secretaire, which was even now on the stroke of nine. “Yes, indeed,” said Florentine, “yet I feel myself so much recovered—so much more cheerful than I have been for a long time, that methinks death cannot so soon overtake me. I have rather been impressed, through this evening, with a belief that my so fondly cherished wish may be fulfilled—that my beloved sister will appear to me, and announce that the fearful prophecy has for once been revoked. Dearest Se-