Page:The Lady's Book Vol. V.pdf/21

 THE DANCE OF DEATH. 19

of your sister. It will be to me a gratifying me- morial of that talent which you do not sufficiently prize, and perhaps the eaggres herald of a happy future.’

“What mean you?’ said’ he turning suddenly round to.me with a serious «and anxious air, though-the moment before he had been gaily urging his preparations for departure. “ I will not deny,’ said I,“ that your sister Jacoba has so enchanted — that I cannot part with her por- trait.’:

“Her portrait!’ repeated he.—*-Well, so let it be. “Take the picture+keep it—fall in love with it—but not with my sister. Believe me, it is not that I would not give her to you, for I love the picture as’ I do her—nay, perhaps more. — There—with that picture you remove a le id from my lieart.’ “He pressed it into my hand; and dis- appeared.” ©

“Let me pass “hastily over the two following years. They have “no connexion with my friend, or with his concerns. He returned not at the time we had contemplated; the letter which.I received in his stead, seemed to breathe a spirit of returning melancholy;—of his family, he-said nothing. «His letters became shorter and less

frequent, and at last entirely ceased. . The pic- ture, however, continued as“dear to me as ever; often did I gaze upon it, though I tried to consi- der it only as-a lovely painting. The parting words of my friend had awakened in my bosom a feeling of distrust; and, often as I looked at it,

the idea occurred to me that I was involved in some ominous and mysterious tissue of events, which, in spite of all my fferts, maintained an unceasing ascendancy over we senses and my soul.”.

“My journey was interrupted by the increas- ing debility and declining health of my uncle, who possessed-an estate in Jutland; he had named me his heir, and wished to see me once more before his deaths» Accordingly, I hurried back.

“I found my uncle better than I hadexpected,

but in great uneasiness relative to part of his fortune, then in the hands of a firm in Copenha- gen, which had lately encountered some serious losses, and of whose doubtful credit be bad within the last few weeks received more than one warn- ing epistle from his friends. The presence of a person of decision on the spot was evidently re- quired, and F undertook the task, to which my uncle agreed, on condition, soon as the showid hastén back to him, weet of my company as. separated by that death not be distant.

“] travelled as fast as possible, and found my- self, on my arrival in Copenhagen, so pressed on all sides by the numerous concerns I had to at- tend to, that 1 had not a moment to spare for myself or my friends. I had not visited one of them; and, in order not to shake the credit of the house by any open proceedings, which would inevitably have led to suspicion, had shown my- self as little as possible to my acquaintances;

when, on the second post day after my arrival, I received a letter from my uncle, announcing that he had had a relapse, and pressing my immediate return. had already put matters so far in train, that a friend; in whom I had confidence, might wind up the business; and as pondered the matter in my mind, it occurred to me. that, it could not be placed in. better hands, from his connexions-in the capitol, than in those of my friend Emanuel.

“-As yet I had only had time-to enquire. hastily after him; nor had I received any intelligence of him; for he had left the house from which his last letter-had been addressed to me, a long time be- fore; and no one was acquainted with his present abode.. By accident, I recollected an agent with whom he. used occasionally to be connected in business. I applied to him. 2

“© Your friend,’ he answered, “ is in the town; where: he: lives, 1 know,mot; but that you.will easily learn from his family.’

“His family!’ said 1, with astonishment.

s“¥es,’ continued she, “ the father, with his two eldest daughters, is at present in Frederick’s Hospital;. he has undergone a dangerous opera- tion, but is now recovering.’

“I felt my heart beat quicker. Jacoba, whore image I had been labouring so long to erase from my fancy—Jacoba was in my neighbourhood. I sLould see her once more; she was not forgotten, as I had sometimes supposed;she lived there as indelibly impressed as the traits of the dear pic- ture, whose graceful but silent charms I had never yet met with mortal maid to equal.

“] had little time to.spare, so I hurried towards the hospital, and entered the wing devoted to patients who paid for. their reception. I sent in my name to the pastor; it was well known to him, and Il was kindly received. The old man, for such he was, though I knew him at once, from his resemblance to his son, was still confined to-bed; a tea-table stood before it; and beside it sat—I could not doubt for a moment—Jacoba, more lovely.and blooming than ever; Regina, still: more sickly and fading than before. Our greeting was a silent one; but I saw at once that I was recognised by both.

“The talkative old man, when he had given me the information I required, and assured me that in half an hour I would find his son at his house, continued to support the conversation al- most alone. I should probably have listened with a more attentive ear to his really entertaining discourse, had not my thoughts been so much divided. between his daughters, the picture, and my own recollections. I confess, at the same time, it was on the fairest of these daughters that my glance rested the longest. She seemed ob- viously, as I had formerly thought, the original of the miniature. Yet, methought, I could now perceive many little differences which had for- merly escaped my observation; nay, even differ- ences between her features as they appeared to me now and before. 1 had some difficulty in re- sisting the old man’s invitation to remain with him till the arrival of his son, whom he expected