rn.

Edith's bower was the usual scene of these domestic concerts; and there
the long, sweet summer evenings glided away in happiness, that the
'queen of that bower '--as Henrich had named her--had never known since
the last evening that she spent there with her brother. She began to
wonder why she had hitherto associated none but melancholy ideas with
the lovely spot; and to find that it was possible to feel even gay and
light-hearted while surrounded by Henrich's flowers, and looking on
Fingal's grave. How strange it seemed--and yet, how pleasant! A new
existence seemed opening before Edith's soul; and life no longer
appeared a dreary pilgrimage, which duty alone could render
interesting. The powers of her mind also received a fresh impulse from
the society of the cultivated Englishman, and was drawn out in a manner
as agreeable as it was new. Roger had brought from his native land a
collection of books, which, though small in number, seemed to Edith a
perfect library; and all were offered for her perusal. Several of them
were, of course, on controversial and doctrinal subjects; and these she
was able to understand and to appreciate: but among these graver and
more abstruse treatises, were some of a more attractive nature--some
volumes of foreign travel, and ancient legends, and heart-stirring
poetry, in which the soul of Edith reveled, as in a garden of new and
fragrant flowers.

It was a fresh, and a very rich enjoyment to one who had known so few
literary pleasures, to pore over these volumes, and find her own vivid
thoughts and wild imaginings set before her in all the captivating
colors of poetry and fiction; or to follow the wanderings of travelers
through the civilized and enlightened countries of the old continent,
and learn from books those manners and customs of refined life, which,
in all human probability, it would never be her lot to witness. But
this enjoyment was more than doubled when Roger took the book, and--as
he often did--read to her and her mother while they sat at their work
in Edith's bower in the heat of the day; and if the younger listener
did occasionally pause in her occupation, and forget to ply her needle
while she looked up at the fine expressive countenance of the reader,
she may be pardoned; for the voice and the expression were in such
perfect unison, that the one added greatly to the effect of the other.

Perhaps these days of peaceful intercourse, and growing, but
unacknowledge