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200 state of excited feeling, it came like a voice from heaven. It was as if a sign had showed her a place of rest. She thought on the dim light—the monumental repose—the silence of the small chapel—the still, shadowy garden—the veiled figures that have exchanged hope for repose, and offer to their God that heart of which the world is unworthy. The last echo died over the waters; and Emily's resolution was taken. Early the next morning, the party met at breakfast, all equipped for an excursion to Count Orsini's exquisite villa. They were becoming impatient for Emily's appearance, when a message was delivered, making her excuses for not joining them, under the feminine and frequent plea of a violent headach. Lord and Lady Mandeville exchanged glances. "Had you not better, Ellen," said he, drawing her into the recess of the window, "go to her?" "I think not. Between ourselves, solitude is the best remedy for her headach. She is at present too much under the influence of recent disappointment to control her feelings;—to betray them will be to confide them—and a confidant is the worst thing in the world.