promised. Give me your hand. Flora, dear
Flora, let me retain it in mine; for at the last hour, and when I am
about to leave this fair and beauteous earth, I feel an ardent longing
to love those who walk upon its face, and to be loved by them in return.
But, alas, alas!" she added, somewhat bitterly, "reflections and
yearnings of this nature come too late! O Flora! the picture of life is
spread before you--while from me it is rapidly receding, and dissolving
into the past. Like our own fair city of palaces and flowers, when seen
from a distance beneath the glorious lights of the morning, may that
glorious picture continue to appear to thee; and may'st thou never draw
near enough to recognize the false splendors in which gorgeous hues may
deck the things of this world; may'st thou never be brought so close to
the sad realities of existence as to be forced to contemplate the
breaking hearts that dwell in palaces, or to view in disgust the slime
upon flowers."

"Nisida," said Francisco, bending over his sister, and speaking in a
voice indicative of deep emotion, "the kind words you utter to my
beloved Flora shall ever--ever remain engraven upon my heart."

"And on mine also," murmured the young countess, pressing Nisida's hand
with grateful ardor, while her eyes, radiant with very softness, threw a
glance of passionate tenderness upon her generous-hearted and handsome
husband.

"Listen to me," resumed Nisida, after a short pause, during which she
gave way to all the luxury of those sweet and holy reflections which the
present scene engendered: and these were the happiest moments of the
lady's stormy life. "Listen to me," she repeated; "and let me enter upon
and make an end of my explanations as speedily as possible. And first,
Francisco, relative to our sainted--our innocent--our deeply-wronged and
much-injured mother. You have already learned that she was the daughter
of the public executioner of Naples; and you have heard that ere she
became our father's wife she swore a solemn oath--she pledged herself in
the most solemn manner that she would never even allude to her
family--that she would not communicate to them the name of her husband
nor the place of his abode, under any circumstances--in a word, that she
would consider her father and brother as dead to her! And yet she had a
tender heart; and after she became the Countess of Riverola she very
often thought of the parent who had reared her tenderly and loved her
a