The day on which Tippetson met Clara Rivolta on the beach was fine, and brilliant, and calm. The sun that evening set gloriously. There hung on its retreat a host of gorgeous clouds snatching from its declining rays fragments of fleeting gold to deck their ever-changing fringes. An unusual number of persons were on the beach that evening to see the beautiful sight. In the midst of their admiration many expressed their fears of a coming storm; and at midnight, or towards morning, their fears were realised, or we may say their hopes were gratified. It was a pleasant consideration that they saw no vessels out at sea, and therefore they could enjoy the sublimity of the scene without a distressing and painful sympathy with the endangered or perishing crew. Signora Rivolta was highly capable of enjoying the sight, and she solicited for her daughter's company at an unusually early hour in the morning to walk down to the beach to watch the mighty movements of the waters. Even till sun-rise, and after, the wind blew with unabating fury. It was a magnificent and highly stimulating sight that could bring the luxurious and effeminate out amidst the conflicting storm to enjoy nature in one of her moods of sublimity. Mr. Tippetson exposed himself among the rest to the pelting of the pitiless storm. Several vessels after a time became visible struggling with the storm, but they were small and rode lightly, no serious danger seemed to threaten them. The scudding clouds and gleaming light from the rising sun now concealed and now displayed them; and it was a fine sight to look upon the white sails fluttering in the wind.