With sprightly grace stepped forth the young Italian, upon the scene--still warbling the last ardent bars of the song he had concluded; and suiting his action to the expressive terms-" Mia bene adorata!" or some such high flown nonsense, he encircled with one arm the young wife's waist, and pressed her towards him; bending upon her at the same time a glance which spoke more than acting from the dark eyes, which, when thus turned towards me, I thought the most splendid I had ever beheld. Indeed, prejudiced as I was, I could not fail to be almost as much charmed with this Signor Angelo's appearance, as I had just been with his voice. Not but that I had already pictured him as handsome. Most of those Italians are so in a way-but here was more than that effective contrast of black and white effeminate grace, or bandit-like fierceness, so charming to the eye of the fair sex, though rather despicable to us, rough, plain, prejudiced Englishmen; here, not only most supremely handsome were those abovementioned eyes-those Italian fine cut features, that broad brow, so dazzlingly white beneath the jet black hair-but there was a frank, open expression in his countenance-a free, manly grace in his address-a momentary truthfulness in his glance, which prevented my feelings revolting, as they would otherwise have done, against the piece of acting with which I was thus indulged. How could I look upon it, but as a rehearsal of that which in another hour or two, would be displayed before admiring crowds -his fair, gentle, almost cold companion, exchanged for a brilliant prima donna? Cold I say, for I thought I marked in the manner with which this tender demonstration was received, some little want of answering cordiality. Yes, though the young creature passively suffered the tender embrace, and slightly-very slightly smiled-she lifted not her eyes from the employment she was completing, and rather abruptly interrupted the scene, which probably, with all her English natural reserve, she might think a little too conspicuous for an open garden, where they might perhaps be exposed to prying gazers-curious old fellows like myself, for instance! Gently disengaging herself-she placed the bouquet in her husband's hands. It seemed the sign of dismissal, for taking it with a "Grazia mia bella! Ah, that I must leave you!" they both turned and re-entered the house. And so ended my second garden scene. CHAPTER II. "They bring me tales of youth and tones of love- To let all flowers live freely, and all die Whene'er their genius bids their Souls depart, Among their kindred in their Native place." LANDOR. "Thou cam'st unknown, and lovely,-and around Thy coming, and thy bearing, and thy mood My landlady had discovered my love of flowers, and besides adorning my apartment with her choicest blossoms, had since my recovery, re peatedly invited me to walk in her garden, and gather freely from its contents. This evening, I availed myself for the first time of the former part of the invitation, and soon found myself leaning upon my stick, my eyes fixed upon the pure blossoms of a lovely white rose tree, the pride of the little domain, which I had often contemplated with admiration from my window. One opening bud in particular rivetted my gaze. It brought before my memory my only child, lost " long, long ago," my bud of promise untimely faded, leaving me relationless on earth. Thus occupied, unconscious that any eye was upon me, poor, sear and yellow leaved tree! I probably looked a very invalided, melancholy old man, and her gentle heart, may be, was touched by my venerable appearance-for the young, bless their dear hearts! think silver hair so pretty, and mine was even then silvery, though it was many years ago. It might have bespoke |