s to hasten and gaze
once more upon the portrait of her mother, and intent, earnest,
enthusiastic was the upraised look now fixed upon that portrait, even as
when we first saw Nisida contemplating the sweet and benignant
countenance in the second chapter of our narrative. Yes:--and again was
her gaze indicative of a devotion, an adoration, a worship.

"Oh! my sainted mother," thought Nisida within her breast, "I have not
proved ultimately faithless to the solemn vows I pledged to thee upon
thy death-bed! No; if for a time I yielded to the voluptuous idleness of
love and passion in that now far off Mediterranean isle, yet, at last
did I arouse myself to energy for young Francisco's sake, and I came
back as soon as Heaven sent me the means of return to the place where my
presence may best serve _his_ interests, and carry out _thy_ wishes!
For, oh! when thou wast alive, my worshiped, my adored mother, how good,
how kind, how affectionate wast thou toward me. And that tenderness of a
mother for her offspring, ah! how well can I comprehend it now; for I
also shall soon become a mother. Yes, Fernand! within the last week I
have received the conviction that a being bearing thine image will see
the light in due time; and the honor of the proud name of Riverola
requires that our child must not be born of an unwedded mother! But wilt
thou seek me out, Fernand? Oh! where art thou now? whither was the bark,
in which I beheld thee last, wafting thee away?"

And, all the while that these thoughts were agitating within her mind,
Donna Nisida kept her eyes intently fixed on the portrait; but on
reflecting a second time that should she fail to meet with Wagner soon
again, or should he prove faithless to her, or if, indeed, he should
nurse resentment and loathing for her on account of her unworthy conduct
toward him on the island, and that her child should be born of an
unwedded mother,--when, we say, she thought of this dread probability a
second time, she burst into tears, and turned away from the
contemplation of her mother's countenance. And Nisida so seldom wept,
that when tears did escape the usually sealed up springs of her
emotions, they came in torrents, and were most bitter and painful to
shed. But she at length triumphed over her feelings, or rather, their
outpourings relieved her; and now the remembrance of another duty which
she had resolved upon performing the moment she should reach home again
was uppermost in her mind. S