le oak whose limbs, rounded into a leafy dome, shed a palpitating
shadow around a sweet little fountain, guarded by a marble naiad,
gathered the merry company upon the green velvet ottoman,
daisy-spangled, that ran around this splendid natural saloon, bower
and drawing-room combined. The day had fulfilled the golden promise of
the early morning; the air, impregnated with a sparkling, effervescing
sunshine, was as bewitching as the breath of champagne foam, and our
adventurers were in the liveliest and gayest spirits.

Noon was culminating, and the less excitable and more worldly portion
of the company began to be thinking seriously of the bountiful
refection which had been provided for the grand occasion. Hortensia,
it was observed by Squire Deerdale and his wife, and the others who
were in the secret, had seemed absent and thoughtful, all the morning,
and little Emma had teased her sufficiently for not playing with her
as usual. At this moment a young man was seen coming down the broad
sloping glade at the foot of which the party were seated. The squire
immediately rose and welcomed the stranger, introducing him to his
bride and sister-in-law, and expressing his pleasure that he had come.
"We almost began to fear," he added, "that you had forgotten our
humble festival."

"A _fete_ thus embellished," replied the stranger, bowing with
peculiar grace to the ladies, and glancing admiringly at Hortensia,
"is not an affair to be so easily forgotten by a wanderer who comes,
after years of exile, to revive beneath the blue skies and bluer eyes
of his native land."

"But your mandolin, Signor Foreigner; I hope you have not forgotten
that?"

"Oh no indeed," returned the stranger with a musical laugh, "I never
forget my little friend, whose harmonies have often been my only
company. Here it comes," pointing to a lad who just then came up,
bearing a handsome though outlandish-looking guitar gingerly across
his arm.

Another of the party had also brought his guitar, and the two were
soon tinkling away at different parts of the grounds--the latter
surrounded by half a dozen young men and women, and several beautiful
children; while the stranger, throwing himself on the grass at the
feet of Hortensia, upon whose lap nestled the little Emma, began a
simple ballad of the olden time--while the squire and his bride stood
against the old oak behind Hortensia. At length the strain of the
young musician changed, subsiding into low an