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BEGINNING OF THE END.

HAVE been neglecting my journal for quite two weeks; and now I have so much on my heart, that, woman-like, I wish to begin at the end, and tell that which is troubling me most, instead of that which makes me happy. But, soberly and in order.

Philip is married! Yes, married and off. A few days after his pleasant and gratifying acceptance by the Folhams, who showed a very frank satisfaction at having their daughter so "nicely established," as Mrs. Folham said, he received news of the death of an uncle in Gerhis father's eldest brother.

many,

The death of this uncle brings a great deal of business on Philip. He has to go immediately to his father's old home in Saxony, to attend to the family affairs; thence to America, to settle up the business interest which his uncle and father had for many years together there, and which has been hanging half unravelled since the death of Philip's father, owing to the age and ill-health of this uncle. All the heirs look to Philip to settle matters; and he feels himself responsible, as his father's representative, to have the business arranged promptly and advantageously for all parties. But to do this might require a year's absence; and to be separated from Flor

ence such an age seemed to him an impossibility; yet go

he must.

You are no position are And as for

"Why separate at all?" asked the practical, straightforward Janet. “Why not marry at once? stranger to the Folhams, so far as name and concerned; nor are they, to me at least. qu'en dira-t-on, why need any of you care?"

Common sense carried the day, especially as common sense and inclination went hand in hand. Mrs. Folham, to do her justice, demurred a little, very properly; but the approval of such persons as the American Ambassador and his wife, and Mrs. Dale, also Philip's distinguished position, had great weight with her, and overcame her "natural scruples," as she called them. Such scruples, arising from that sort of delicacy which is the growth of society, not nature, generally seem satisfied with a mere announcement of their existence; and as they are convenient mythical feelings, perfectly innocent, on which society's proprieties can be hung, they surely may be treated respectfully, as, half the time, they only ask to be acknowledged, not yielded to.

Florence behaved beautifully. The good, sweet girl, without any boldness or forwardness, said frankly and trustingly, "I should rather be married at once, if Philip wishes it, than wait for his return."

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So the affair was settled; and yesterday morning, -as midday is called, in such matters, they were married in full and proper state. I cannot stop to give all the details, which at any other time would be so agreeable for me to dwell on, - the costly gifts, the ravishing toilet of the bride, the touching, impressive ceremony; - no, I must hurry on to that other romance, which has been blending its scarlet and purple threads in with this lovely

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golden one, making up the sacred life-chord of joy and sorrow. At the breakfast yesterday Luigi and I stood beside each other.

"Now Edelhertz is off your hands, Ottilie," he said, with an attempt at playfulness, "you can have a little time for me; shall you not?"

me.

I have been neglecting Luigi lately; but, to tell the truth, I have thought he showed a disposition to avoid He has seemed for several weeks indisposed for any companionship except that which we could have when all together. He has excused himself from our rides, preferring to drive with Janet and Venitia. Our little family circle has thus divided off during the daily pursuits of pleasant occupation; uniting, however, always in the evenings over the music, or in conversation with visitors on the terrace.

But I have willingly yielded him up to Venitia, hoping that his love for her, which has seemed to have an unaccountable tangle in it, might announce itself in some way. I could not see how I was able to help him in the matter; and his seeking Venitia's and Janet's society instead of mine appeared the most natural path to the conclusion, which I had convinced myself, from outward appearances, must come sooner or later.

And it has come; but Heaven knows in a form and shape I little anticipated! Eager and hasty as I was, a few pages before, to begin at the end, my pen falters as I approach it. O, to shut up Life's book once in a while, and not open it again until all the sad pages are passed over!

I was very gay yesterday, as I always am when under the high-pressure of memory. Philip's marriage could not be a true merry-making to me. It struck on the

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hundred portals of the past; and there came thronging out around me the invisible presences of the lost and gone, holding to my lips the weird goblet filled with that rare wine of Cyprus, whose draught

"Stirs the Hades of the heart,"

and gives an intoxication to the laugh and looks and manner, more subtle and brain-wildering than any grapejuice of this earth's vintage can cause. So I laughed sharply, and wore my gay face-mask bravely; but Janet, who knows me so well, came silently and tenderly to me every little while, resting her hands on me with sweet looks of sympathy and love. Luigi, too, who looked very pale and haggard, kept close by me, and gazed wistfully at the scarlet hue which the secret dripping of the old heart-wound sent glowingly up into my cheeks. After we had seen Philip and Florence off in the steamer, and had returned home, I was standing in the late twilight on the terrace with Luigi alone. He said, "I wish Can you give me

to have a long ride with you, Ottilie. to-morrow?"

"Certainly. I shall need some pleasure of that sort badly. You know I believe in appeasing the tumult of the heart by rapid movements of the body, my friend; so it is very kind of you to think of it. But you are not going! Stay and drink tea with us."

"No, do not urge me. I cannot. I shall be here early in the morning. Say seven o'clock, that we may go to Lago d' Agnano before it grows warm. We shall be gone all day, remember; and he hesitated, then added hurriedly, "Ottilie, I wish to have you all to myself tomorrow; so, let us be entirely alone."

At seven o'clock this morning, therefore, before Janet or Venitia were awake, we were trotting out of the court

yard gate, on to the broad, lava-paved Mergellina. The morning was glorious, and we cantered nearly the whole route, for both of us felt an indescribable embarrassment. We soon arrived at our old haunt of Lago d' Agnano, and rode around it, and through the neighboring paths, until we felt tired of the saddle and wished to breakfast.

We found the lovely lake as still and delightful as it had been in early spring, when we used to go there in the commencement of our pleasant friendship. The woody hills which surround it closed in more shadily than then, and the soft, grassy banks we found not yet touched with the heat, which is growing so oppressive in Naples as to make us talk of the necessity of seeking some Capri or Sorrento retreat for the midsummer months.

We rode up to the trattoria, where we dismounted, left our horses, and ordered refreshments for the day. The beautiful Roman woman Delaïta, who keeps this Lake inn, gave us a friendly greeting. She helped me off my horse, and took me from the saddle in her strong, beautiful arms as if I had been no heavier than one of her own "iron-jointed, supple-sinewed," dusky babies. who rolled jollily about on the ground, almost under the horses' heels.

Luigi and I had a pleasant chat with her; then as we walked slowly off from the trattoria to go into the woods, we talked of her beauty as if we had not observed it a hundred times before. We stopped a little way from the house, and noticed her fine points as she moved gravely around, with the slow, dignified step of a Roman matron of antiquity.

Delaïta indeed seemed more beautiful than usual this morning, giving us a good excuse for growing enthusi

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