yet I thought the hand was not entirely unknown to me, though it appeared disguised. I was still engaged in gazing on the _sybil leaf_ when I heard _Glorvina_ approach. I never was mistaken in her little feet’s light bound, for she seldom walks; and hastily replacing the book, I appeared deeply engaged in looking over a fine atlas that lay open on the table. She seemed surprised at my appearance, so much so, that I felt the necessity for apologizing for my intrusion. “But,” said I, “an immunity granted by you is too precious to be neglected, and if I have not oftener availed myself of my valued privileges, I assure you the fault was not mine.” Without noticing my inuendo she only bowed her head, and asked me with a smile, “what favourite spot on the globe I was tracing with such earnestness,” when her entrance had interrupted my geographic pursuits. I placed my finger on that point of the northwest shores of Ireland, where we then stood, and said in the language of _St. Preux_, “The world, in my imagination, is divided into two regions--that where _she is_--and that where she is not.” With an air of bewitching insinuation, she placed her hand on my shoulder, and with a faint blush and a little smile shook her head, and looked up in my face, with a glance half incredulous--half tender. I kissed the hand by whose pressure I was thus honoured, and said, “professions, my lovely friend, are for the world, but I would at least have you believe, that my friendship, like gold, though not sonorous, is indestructible.” This I said, in the irrascibility of my jealous heart, for, though too warm for another, oh! how cold for me! Glorviria started as I spoke, I thought changed colour! while at intervals she repeated, “strange!--nor is this the only coincidence!” “Coincidence!” I eagerly repeated, but she affected not to hear me, and appeared busily engaged in selecting for herself a bouquet from the flowers which filled one of those _vases_ I before noticed to you. “And is that beautiful vase,” said I, “another family antiquity? it looks as though it stole its elegant form from an Estrucan model: is this too an effort of ancient Irish taste!” “No,” said she, I thought confusedly, “I believe it came from Italy.” “Has it been long in the possession of the family?” said I, with persevering impertinence. “It was a present from a friend of my father’s,” she replied, colouring, “to me!” The bell at that moment rang for breakfast, away she flew, apparently pleased to be released from my importunities.