May we be spared, my dearest Henry, to pray together, that HE may bestow on us present resignation, and make us duly thankful for blessings which still are ours. Your affectionate sister, EMILY. Delmé read the letter with tearless eye. For some time he leant his head on his hand, and thought of his sister, and of the dead. He shook, and laughed wildly, as he beat his hand convulsively against the wall. Carl Obers and Thompson held him down, while this strong paroxysm lasted. His sobs became fainter, and he sunk into a placid slumber. The student watched anxiously by his side. He awoke; called for Emily's letter; and as he read it once more, the tears coursed down his sunken cheeks. Ah! what a relief to the excited man, is the fall of tears. It would seem as if the very feelings, benumbed and congealed as they may hitherto have been, were suddenly dissolving under some happier influence, and that,--with the external sign--the weakness and pliability of childhood--we were magically regaining its singleness of feeling, and its gentleness of heart. Sir Henry swerved no more from the path of manly duty. He saw the vetturino, and arranged his departure for the morrow. On that evening, he took Carl's arm, and sauntered through the village church-yard. Already seemed it, that the sods had taken root over George's grave. The interstices of the turf were hidden;--a white paper basket, which still held some flowers, had been suspended by some kind stranger hand over the grave;--from it had dropped a wreath of yellow amaranths. There was great repose in the scene. The birds appeared to chirp softly and cautiously;--the tufts of grass, as they bowed their heads against the monumental crosses, seemed careful not to rustle too drearily. Sir Henry's sleep was more placid, on _that_, his last night at Wallensee, than it had been for many a night before. * * * * * Acting up to his original design, Delmé passed through the capitals of Bavaria and Wurtemburg; and quickly traversing the picturesque country round Heilbron, reached the romantic Heidelberg, washed by the Neckar. The student, as might be expected, did not arrive at his old University, with feelings of indifference; but he insisted, previous to visiting his college companions, on showing Sir Henry the objects of interest. The two friends, for such they might now be styled, walked towards the castle, arm in arm; and stood on the terrace, adorned with headless statues, and backed by a part of the mouldering ruin, half hid by the thick ivy. They looked down on the many winding river, murmuringly gliding through its vine covered banks. Beyond this, stretched a wide expanse of country; while beneath them lay the town of Heidelberg--the blue smoke hanging over it like a magic diadem.