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Rh "Be sure you keep a good fire; and as I may do you more harm than good by staying, I leave you to take what food you please from the basket. There's some honey, as clear as my own amber beads. The good Madonna keep you, Senhora!" and, affectionately kissing Beatrice's hands, the kind peasant departed. Beatrice paced up and down her dreary cave, every moment starting from her reverie, as the sound of the falling water startled her like a strange step. With a strong effort she calmed herself, and, drawing one of the wooden seats to the fire, opened the little volume, and read till all vain terrors had departed, and even her natural anxiety was soothed into patient and sweet reliance on Him who suffereth not a sparrow to fall to the ground unheeded. She had a little French watch,—Lorraine's only gift. He had said, laughingly, to her the last evening they spent together, "You shall have this to count the hours of my absence." He did not think how sweet a companion it would be. Time, which we have no means of reckoning, is so dreadfully long. How often, that night, did Beatrice refer, with a warm feeling of society, to the little glittering face over