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 rose, my woes are of a nature perhaps never to be relieved. Meet me to-morrow, said Adelaide, at the foot of the hill, under the spreading oak where you heard me moan. I will there reveal what will excite your pity. They parted. Fonrose passed the night with great inquietude; his fate depended on what he was to hear; he dreaded the discovery of a tender unhappy passion. If she loves, I am undone.

He set out to the rendezvous, and the fair shepherdess arrived soon after. The morn was overcast with clouds, as if nature had presaged their sorrowful conversation.— They seated themselves under the oak; when, after a profound sigh, Adelaide thus began

“Beneath those stones you see there, almost covered with the creeping grass, lie the remains of a most faithful and virtuous man, whom my love and imprudence brought to the grave. I was born in France, of a wealthy family, and of high distinction; too wealthy, to my misfortune. Count Oreston conceived for me the most passionate, tender love, to which my heart corresponded with equal warmth. My parents objected to our union, and refused their consent. Hurried on by my passion, I agreed to private marriage, sacred to virtuous souls, but disapproved by laws. Italy then was the seat of war. My husband was ordered to join the corps he was to command; and I went with him as far as Briancon. There my foolish fondness prevailed on him to stay with me three days, which he passed with extreme reluctance. I sacrifice, said he, my duty for you. But what had I not sacrificed for him!

“He afterwards set out with a foreboding that terrified me. I accompanied him to this valley, where we took leave of each other, and I returned to Briancon. In a few days a report of a battle was spread about. I was sure my dear Oreston was there. I wished it for his honour; I feared it for my love. When I received