se either appetite, society,
or life, for love, he bestowed his gallantries elsewhere. She liked him
for this all the better; and gave him, in return, that free-hearted,
sisterly friendship, which might be innocently suffered to grow out of
their connexion and intimacy.

All the regular, conceited male coquettes were abashed and perplexed by
manners so natural, that they could make nothing of her; while those
more dangerous, but much to be blamed admirers, who stand apart with
sighs and gazes, were baffled and made sad by the silent dignity of eyes
serenely bright, that never looked upon their flattering worship with
one ray of favour. Such was Beatrice Adony; all the fair girls were fond
of her, and proud of her--because she was no one's rival. They looked on
her as a being of a higher order; one whose thoughts were chaste as the
unsunned Alps. She was admired by them, meditated upon--but never
envied.

Most true it was, Beatrice was of another and a higher order. She was
"among them, not of them." She took part in those amusements which
belong to the customs of her country; and filled that place, and
performed those customs, which her station in society demanded, with
unaffected ease and grace. But while the trifles and pleasures of the
passing day were to her companions everything, they were to her little
and unsatisfying. For the last few years of her mother's life, whose
habits were meditative and devotional, she had daily listened to the
gracious lessons of divine truth, and the closet of Beatrice Adony was
hallowed by the Eye that seeth in secret, and that often saw her there
upon her knees.

It was on a fine day, in the early spring of 1796, that orders reached
Salzburgh for the march of these Hungarian hussars. They were to
traverse the Tyrol, and to join the army of Italy. They were to march at
sunrise on the following morning; and Count Adony, collecting all the
acquaintances of the corps in the town and neighbourhood, gave the
Hungarian officers a farewell banquet and ball; preparations for which,
in anticipation of their early departure, Beatrice had already directed.

Beatrice was the radiant queen of this fair festival; and it was strange
to think, that from the presence of such a being so many men were going
to part without one lover's pang. Amiable, affable, natural, and full of
grace, she presided over this little court of love--serene, unmoved,
herself. Yet any thoughtful and suspicious observer w