ing away the
gloomy remains of winter, and recalling again to life and animation the
innumerable beauties of creation.

The day was fixed on when Alida was to return to her native residence.
Albert was to attend her home, and he invited his friend Theodore to
accompany him. It was evening when they arrived at the house of Albert's
father, where they found considerable company collected, as was
customary on the celebration of his birth-day.

He received his children with gladness and joy, and Theodore with
friendly politeness.

"This meeting must be highly pleasing to you, miss," said Theodore to
Alida, "after your long absence from home." "It is so, indeed," replied
she, "and highly gratifying to my father, to meet here his children, and
relations, on the annual occasion of celebrating his birth-day, when we
are honoured with so numerous a company of uncles, aunts, cousins,
nephews, and nieces, that one would suppose we were connected with half
the families in the state. And sometimes they do not all leave us, in
several weeks afterwards, and regale themselves in riding about the
country and visiting the neighbours in the vicinity."

In the course of the evening they were joined by a number from the
neighbouring villages, and among the rest was the son of a gentleman who
had been long acquainted with the family. He was a gay young man; his
address was easy; his manners rather voluptuous than refined; confident,
but not ungraceful.

He led the ton in fashionable circles, and was quite a favourite with
the ladies generally. His name was Bonville. He had seen Alida long
before, but her additional graces since that time appeared far to exceed
his expectations.

Alida at sixteen displayed many pleasing attractions. Her height rose to
the majestic. She was tall and graceful, and her expressive features
were adorned with hair of light auburn, which hung about her neck in
natural ringlets; while her dark blue eyes, mingled at once the rays of
sprightly intelligence, and a pleasing affability.

She was arrayed on this occasion, in a dress of white muslin, richly
inwrought with needle-work. A silk embroidered sash surrounded her
waist, and she wore on her head a wreath of artificial flowers. Her
elder sisters manifested their pleasure in beholding the artless,
unadorned school-girl, metamorphosed to the interesting young lady of
fascinating manners and amiable deportment.

Social converse and rural amusements took up th