Know then ... that I am a bride; yes, the bride of a man, whom I love with my whole soul—and yet he is not the person, who made such an impression on my silly heart during the Easter-service. Fool that I was! I cast my eyes on the noblest among all the sons of Helvetia, and thought, that he was just good enough for the simple Amabel Melthal! Has the name of William Tell never struck your hearing? Helvetia boasts no citizen more virtuous, no patriot more zealous, no seaman more expert, no husbandman more industrious, no counsellor more prudent, no warrior more brave! And this very man was it, this identical William Tell (who into the bargain has long been married, and has several children) who because he happened to throw a few accidental glances on the weakest and vainest of our country-damsels, made her conclude forsooth that the man’s heart was hers, and that he desired nothing better than to possess her heart in return. I should be a thousand times more ashamed of my folly, had there been no cause at all for my falling into such a mistake. In truth, William Tell’s eyes, which put all my devotion so completely to flight at church, were not fixed on me without some meaning; nor were they entirely without that expression, which I fancied them to contain. He really was more struck with my appearance, than with that of any of my companions; it _was_ affection, which made him consider me with such earnestness; and after making a few enquiries respecting me, he did not disappoint my expectations; he actually came, and demanded me in marriage.—Only, he did not demand me for himself. No; it was for his half-brother Edmund Bloomberg, who in a few days more will become my husband. Ah! dear lady, I could say much on this subject. Certainly, love and courtship are very different things in _our_ station and in _yours_. The important “yes” is drawn from _your_ lips by the authority of parents, by convenience, or perhaps by a sort of preference, which you dignify with the name of love; but when _we_ acknowledge the noblest and the chastest of all human affections, our feelings are exhilarating and pure as the gales, which blow from our mountains; we look boldly towards the distant futurity, which love paints in colours as much more beautiful than the present, as the views from the summit of yon lofty rocks are superior to any thing to be discovered in the Valley. But _you_...!