As Clara Rivolta was walking alone on the beach the morning after the destruction of Miss Henderson's pretty letters by the ruthless severity of Signora Rivolta, the young lady's mind was full of various and agitating thoughts, and she was meditating on the deceitfulness of the world and all that is therein; and then began she to think of Horatio Markham, whose considerate and kind attentions had greatly impressed her mind with a favorable idea both of herself and of him. She thought within herself, "Is he also insincere, and must I believe nobody who speaks well of me?" It was a pleasant and a soothing sight to have before her eyes the mighty ocean, and to see its rolling billows dashing with infinite monotony on the shore; and it was pleasant to her to let her spirit ride upon these mighty billows onward and onward to distant lands, and to imagine that there lived one in whose life she felt an interest. Whatever Miss Henderson might be, she was sure that Horatio Markham lacked not understanding and good sense; for she had observed that her mother had conversed with him very attentively, and apparently with great pleasure. Being disappointed in her friendship with Miss Henderson, her thoughts very naturally reverted to her incipient friendship with Markham. While engaged in these meditations, she was roused from her reverie by the sound of something plunging into the water, and presently after by the noise of the sharp, shrill yelping of a little dog that came shaking his white wet coat almost on Clara's dress. The master of the animal was at hand ready to apologise for the animal's want of decorum. The apology was accepted; the owner of the dog was Mr. Tippetson, he did not say that he threw the dog into the water on purpose to attract the young lady's attention. As Mr. Tippetson was personally acquainted with Clara, a conversation naturally sprung up on the occasion of this accidental meeting.