She was indeed going to quit her parents, but not for ever; they were yet in the flower of their lives, and Providence therefore permitted her to anticipate their future re-union. Blanche was of a grateful disposition; she loved to be happy, and far from partaking in the nature of those wretchedly tempered spirits who seem to feast on discontent, and refuse to be comforted; she opened her soul to admit the smallest particle of consolation. Her reflections now assumed a more serious cast, (for they were employed in enumerating the mercies she yet possessed, and those she might anticipate without presumption,) but they were no longer afflicting: anxious to seize this moment of resignation for appearing before her parents, she got up, and giving a long look of regret to the resting-place of her early companion, turned homeward. Sebastian was advancing in search of her: “I have only been to look at poor Barémel’s grave,” she said blushing, “since you have told me all that I owe to him, his memory has become almost sacred to me, he saved my dear father’s life.” Blanche added the last sentence with trepidation which shewed she was eager to give an honorable excuse for what might have been deemed a weakness. Sebastian pressed her hand as he led her forward: “like thy mother in all things!” he observed, “ever diffident of thy best and most engaging actions!” They proceeded in silence to the apartment of Kara Aziek: she had yet many things to say, or to repeat, and she was now gathering fortitude to pronounce them calmly. Blanche sat down between her parents: each held one of her hands, and frequently pressed it; but as yet, none of them spoke: their eyes were fixed on the ground. Why is it that the dearest connexions, when about to lose sight of each other, avoid looking on the countenance they love, and which they will so soon long to behold again? is it that the soul instinctively prepares for its calamity, and tries to soften the pang by gradual abandonment of its enjoyments? or is it that grief would be uncontrollable if those delightful feelings were indulged which we are conscious must end with the removal of the person beloved? Whatever be the motive, its effect was seen in the family at Cachoeira: they remained silent and immovable, drawing by stealth long and interrupted sighs. They were summoning resolution to speak of parting. At this moment Gaspar hastily entered; every eye was raised towards him: “The ship sails an hour earlier than we expected, a messenger has just come from St. Salvador to say so, we have not an instant to lose.” Kara Aziek uttered a loud shriek, and clasped her daughter in her arms; they had started up at Gaspar’s first words, and now remained clinging to each other. Tears, sobs, broken exclamations, embraces repeated again and again, were the witnesses of their sorrow.