But the books gave us both the greatest satisfaction. Luigi is the lucky owner of many curious and rare editions; he has an Aldine Odyssey, a Guntt Iliad, and an Elzevir Virgil with a margin of five inches, over which Philip's eyes looked notes of admiration of the largest size and greatest number.

"Here is an Elzevir

"See this, Ottilie," he cried. New Testament, translated by the Port-Royalists, of which Jules Janin says so drolly, 'If you find this book in a good state, and have not money enough to buy it, go immediately to the pawnbroker, and pawn your watch or your gun, or anything that is yours, and buy this book; then sit down with satisfaction over it, feeling sure of having secured a good bargain." "

He showed me some other Port Royalist books, and made me observe their covers. Great ascetics as were the Port-Royalists, they were very nice about their books. They had a binding made expressly for themselves, which is still known by the name of Jansenist binding.

While we were looking at the books, Janet, Venitia, and Luigi joined us. Luigi left Philip to do the honors of the library to Janet and me, and took Venitia to a book-stand on which were placed some fine illustrated folios on Architecture, Sculpture, and the various European galleries. They grew so interested over the prints, that they seemed hardly conscious of our presence; and yet I slyly noticed that they said little to each other,— they were too quietly happy to talk.

I leaned back in the easy-chair, half-listening to Janet's and Philip's intelligent talk over the books, but at the same time imagining I could read that sweeter, unspoken lore contained in the hearts of the two half-conscious lovers. I felt sure that a strange, sweet feeling was welling up in both.

Venitia seemed lapped in a soft, luxurious dream, doubtless caused by finding herself suddenly lifted into the very atmosphere of Luigi's daily, hourly life. It was a delicious mystery being unveiled to her. That subtle

Frenchman who took women's hearts and clove them "deep down the middle," said very truly, "It is so sweet for women to know where and how those live who are dear to them."

To Luigi it was the simple but exquisite pleasure of having Venitia in his own home; it was a delicate sense of possession, as it were, which, though it could only last a brief season, still for that period it was real. This feeling showed itself in an expression which, though quiet, was exultant. As I looked at his fine face, lighted up with this happiness, I wished to whisper to Philip,

"Open the temple gates unto my love,
Open them wide, that she may enter in;
And all the posts adorn as doth behove,

And all the pillars deck with garlands trim."

Then I looked at Philip, and thought how different it was with him. He was talking earnestly with Janet, displaying all his fine powers of courteous argument, which he loves to do with her. He has a great respect for her almost masculine intellect, and an admiration for her lovely character and high-bred manners. Sometimes they have rather severe passes, arising from his forgetfulness for an instant of her superior abilities, and his treating her, as men always do women, when arguing with them, as a child or inferior, who must be tenderly borne with for its sweet ignorance' sake; but she soon brings him to a consciousness that he is measuring swords with an equal, and he likes her all the better for it.

I watched his animated countenance, full of life and

energy; and, I thought, he has no sweet dreams to preoccupy him, to make him gentle and at peace with all humanity; for love acts thus upon cultured, superior natures. Infatuated as Philip is with the young English girl, the feeling has not yet taken deep enough root to yield him the sweet fruit of joy and rest. There is some of the dull pain of sorrow left rankling in his heart, just enough to give him a little goading sting; for, upon bounding dispositions like his, which cannot be stilled by any power but that called death, sorrow acts as a sort of mental intoxication, producing a reckless, frolicsome state of feeling, which partially, but only for a brief moment, deadens the anguish of

"That old wound ever aching."

De Quincey said he "made of grief a fiery chariot, for mounting above the causes of grief." Philip uses his as a bounding bark on a fast-running sea, under a head wind; or, as if mounted on Arcite's horse,

"Who'd make his length a mile, if 't pleased his rider
Put pride in him.” *

And he does "put pride in" his, galloping bravely above his " causes of grief."

After a while we were all brought to one common level, where love and divine philosophy were merged in the enjoyment of more material pleasures. A delightful fruit supper, with ices and wines, was brought in, and served on Sevres dishes, whose pink hue was as delicate as the Mediterranean conch-shell, and whose Etruscan forms were quite in keeping with the frescoes of the room. We drank each other's health in a parting glassful of the luscious Capri wine, which rested on the tongue and in

*Fletcher's Two Noble Kinsmen.

the throat with a fragrant, fruity taste; and as I held up the delicate-shaped, amber-colored Bohemian goblet to the light, I thought how like molten gold the two mellow hues united looked.

"Near midnight, on one side or the other it matters little which, does it, Ottilie?" said Philip, gayly, as he wrapped around me the pretty Arabian mantle he brought me from the East, whose rich goat's-hair fringe looks like the foam on cream, it is such a golden white.

We walked slowly along the broad Chiaja, for we had dismissed the coach on going into Luigi's. The clear, beautiful light of the young moon poured down a generous flood over the lava-paved streets, the high white palaces and thick foliage of the trees in the Villa Reale. The crowd had all left that courtly, stately part of the town;` but every little while a chance petard could be heard, or a whiz of a sky-rocket, from the more densely-populated part of the city, and a distant murmur arose thence; but the whole affair looked like a public garden towards daybreak, after a fête, very shabby and dilapidated. God's illumination, however, continued on, as fresh as at the beginning; the blazing lava streamed down the mountain's side unceasingly, and the glorious, fiery vapor rose up and curled superbly and slowly about the heavens, spreading itself everywhere, as if conscious of its inexhaustible powers.

Venitia, Janet, and Luigi walked together; Philip and I. We did not feel like talking, although Luigi tried to by snatches; but Philip remained silent, wrapped in his own meditations, yielding to the sweet influences of the night, and some graceful poetic thought, which, as a chaste young Muse, was wooing him on with pretty coquetry and tender waywardness.

LARGE party of us yesterday ascended Vesuvius. We proposed going last Monday, but have been waiting for Luigi, who has been really ill since Trinity Sunday evening. Indeed, he is far from well now, and quite unlike himself in manner; so absent and preoccupied, that even he notices it, for he tries to recover his old self-possession, and in the attempt becomes unnatural and almost brusque. This afternoon when he joined us he seemed so ill at ease that I advised him to stay at home. But in a well-bred way, without any disagreeable words, he made me understand that he did not like my counsel, and appeared annoyed at the notice I took of him. I said no more, and felt relieved when I remembered that I was to go with the Rochesters, and not in our coach, where the constant sight of his altered countenance would cause me pain and anxiety.

I managed with all the adroitness I possess to have Philip go with Mrs. Folham and Florence. I found they expected to ask the handsome young Milnes, a nephew of Mrs. Folham, to serve as their attendant; but as he is one of the officers aboard the English royal navy ship which is anchored in the harbor, there was a little doubt about his obtaining a long enough leave of absence. Im