ce in it those feelings of security, which we naturally
attach to home. In this interval also, her mind, having been undisturbed
by any new circumstance of disgust, or alarm, recovered its tone
sufficiently to permit her the enjoyment of her books, among which she
found some unfinished sketches of landscapes, several blank sheets of
paper, with her drawing instruments, and she was thus enabled to amuse
herself with selecting some of the lovely features of the prospect,
that her window commanded, and combining them in scenes, to which her
tasteful fancy gave a last grace. In these little sketches she generally
placed interesting groups, characteristic of the scenery they animated,
and often contrived to tell, with perspicuity, some simple and affecting
story, when, as a tear fell over the pictured griefs, which her
imagination drew, she would forget, for a moment, her real sufferings.
Thus innocently she beguiled the heavy hours of misfortune, and, with
meek patience, awaited the events of futurity.

A beautiful evening, that had succeeded to a sultry day, at length
induced Emily to walk, though she knew that Bertrand must attend her,
and, with Maddelina for her companion, she left the cottage, followed by
Bertrand, who allowed her to choose her own way. The hour was cool and
silent, and she could not look upon the country around her, without
delight. How lovely, too, appeared the brilliant blue, that coloured all
the upper region of the air, and, thence fading downward, was lost in
the saffron glow of the horizon! Nor less so were the varied shades and
warm colouring of the Apennines, as the evening sun threw his slanting
rays athwart their broken surface. Emily followed the course of the
stream, under the shades, that overhung its grassy margin. On the
opposite banks, the pastures were animated with herds of cattle of a
beautiful cream-colour; and, beyond, were groves of lemon and orange,
with fruit glowing on the branches, frequent almost as the leaves,
which partly concealed it. She pursued her way towards the sea, which
reflected the warm glow of sun-set, while the cliffs, that rose over its
edge, were tinted with the last rays. The valley was terminated on the
right by a lofty promontory, whose summit, impending over the waves, was
crowned with a ruined tower, now serving for the purpose of a beacon,
whose shattered battlements and the extended wings of some sea-fowl,
that circled near it, were still illumined by th