“In her chamber, changing her travelling dress—go to her—I will attend her,” said Emily, as, at the same moment starting from her side, Gusty May sprang forward with strange gaiety in his manner, considering what we know of his then recent love-crosses, and grasped Sophie’s hand, and then Hagar’s, and then Raymond’s, and then Captain Wilde’s, shaking them all emphatically, joyously, as asking after everybody’s health, and explaining that he and Miss Aguilar had had a delightful overland journey in a post-chaise, because Rosalia was afraid of the water, &c., &c. Sophie passed on up stairs, and Hagar was about to follow her, when Emily laid her hand on her shoulder, and murmured close to her ear— “Do not both of you leave your guests at the same time again, Hagar; you should remember the punctilious etiquette exacted by Mrs. Gardiner Green, and others present.” The spring of Hagar’s upper lip started as the spring of her foot was arrested; and with a “Mrs. Gardiner Green,” repeated in no very reverential tone, she stood still, especially as Raymond’s hand very softly fell upon her own just then. Sophie passed up stairs, and opened the door of Rosalia’s chamber, catching for a single instant a glimpse of this beautiful picture. The lovely girl reposed in a large, easy chair; her pale gold wavy hair, parted above her fair brow floated down her blue-veined temples, down her faint rose-tinted cheeks, down the tender undulations of her dove-like throat and bosom, and flowed upon the soft, white muslin that covered her form. As the door opened and Sophie flew towards her, she arose and dropped in her embrace; the gentle arms were around Sophie’s neck, the golden hair overflowing her, her soft form folded to her bosom, the warm heart throbbing against her heart, the warm lips pressed to her lips, and tears of joy slowly falling. “My love, my baby, my dove-eyed darling, welcome! welcome!” sobbed Sophie, pressing her again and again to her bosom. “Oh! is it possible that now I shall have you always with me, to see you as much as I please, to love you as much as I please, to kiss you! oh! my dove! my beauty! as often as I _must_. How have you been, Rose? how do you feel, Rose? are you well? are you much tired? what will you have, Rose? Come to the window and let me take a good look at you;” and Sophie drew her to the window, held her off and gazed upon her beauty as though she could have quaffed it up, and opening her arms, folded her again in an embrace, murmuring “oh! my child, my nursling, you are _so_ fair. Look at me, Rose; look at me, my darling! bless those dove eyes, with their brooding tenderness!” Then she sat down on the lounge, and drawing Rose to her side, passed her arms around her waist and said, looking down in her face lovingly, “I am going to be married soon, Rosalia; to be married to one whom I love, and who loves me above all things.” Rosalia’s eyes started, dilated, and then softened as she murmured, “And he loves you?” “Yes.”