Not the least singular feature in their intercourse was the intimacy which appeared to subsist between Sir Edgar and Don Rafaele. The extreme youth and extraordinary personal attractions of Don Rafaele, though somewhat overcast by his reserved manners, had preferred him to Sir Edgar’s regard at the very outset; but his interest in the young Spaniard deepened on acquaintance, and, after a very brief intercourse, increased to attachment. Associated with his country, in respect to his deceased wife, by a tie that he could never overlook, he was predisposed to this feeling, and the winning appearance of Don Rafaele insensibly led him to give it free rein. The warmth and kindness of his manner was not without a due effect on the young Spaniard. As his desire to please him became more apparent, he cast off his formal dignity, and became less reserved. Still, however, he was not at his ease, and his eyes betrayed a restlessness and discomposure, which his utmost efforts could hardly enable him to disguise. No restraint of this sort existed in the bosoms of Hildebrand and Evaline. Their intercourse, if not founded on the same sympathies, was free and open, and full of ardent and generous feelings. In a correspondence so happy, the day sped lightly by, and left them anxious only for the promise of the morrow. A fortnight passed over in the same uninterrupted harmony. Yet, at its expiration, Evaline, it must be owned, was not so uniformly composed, if she were even so happy, as at the commencement of that period. It is true, while she was actually in correspondence with Hildebrand, interchanging those social relations which constitute one of the brightest features of life, she was supremely happy, but her solitary moments were not unattended by a certain degree of solicitude. She noticed that, at times, Hildebrand’s brow was sad and overcast, and, if come upon unexpectedly, or without some previous intimation, that he was often taken by surprise; and, from these evidences of mental uneasiness, she inferred that he was too seriously occupied to think of love, even if he could ever be inspired with love for _her_. It was not improbable, indeed, in her opinion, that he loved another. Her fair bosom thrilled with anguish when she pondered on such a possibility. And how often, in the dead of the night, when every other eye was fastened in sleep, did she ponder on it! How often and often did she ask herself, with all the bitterness of disappointed passion, whether she had really built her affections, and the peace and tenor of her precious life, on the crazy foundations of a shadow! But, as has been observed, these reflections never occurred to her when she was in communication with Hildebrand. Then, indeed, she had no apprehension--no anxiety: she had not even a thought beyond the felicity of the moment.