im."

She had not yet made an end of speaking, when the sound of the church
clocks, ascending faintly, tolled eleven. It was broad daylight; for,
though the sun had set, his rays darted in orange-tinted pillars to the
centre of the sky, and sustained the glory of his presence. My young and
beautiful companion, starting at the sound, wiped away her tears, and
seemed to regret the lateness of the hour; and noting each vibration as
it fell on her ear, she commenced with her thumb, and then advancing to
the tip of each tapering finger, counted, with a whisper in her native
language,

"En, twa, tre, fyra, fem, sex, sju, atta, nie, tie,--elfva!"

Her exclamation of surprise and regret that she had remained so long
from home, made me strive to soothe her fears. When she was about to
hurry away, I begged her to tell me her name, that I might know what to
call her for the future.

"I am a poor peasant girl," she said, despondingly, "and you will never
desire to speak to me more."

"Are my thoughts to be known by yours?" I asked, with a slight smile;
"and do you think I cannot see God's bounty to the peasant girl, and
love virtue and innocence of heart clothed in any garb?"

"Yes, I think that," she answered, diffidently; "but I am not like those
you are wont to converse and dwell with; and when you talk to _me_, you
will learn my ignorance, and you will hate me then. I would have you
love me."

"And why," I said, "when you do not know my character, or temper, you
would have me love you?"

"That you may accept my love."

"And why _yours?_"

"Because it was my father's wish," she answered, with the gentleness of
the most engaging simplicity of manner, "that I should love all
Englishmen."

"I would not have that love," I replied.

She turned round quickly, and looked steadfastly at me; but soon as her
gaze met mine, her large, round, languishing blue eye fell, and drooped
to the ground.

"Will you not tell me your name?" I said, going nearer to her; "for we
shall meet again. Yonder lies the vessel that will bear me from your
country, and it is not prepared to move for many days."

She raised her eyes, and, with a smile, turned them towards the bay,
when observing that the sailors were painting the cutter's hull, and
scraping the spars, she appeared pleased with the sight; and dropping
her eyes towards the ground again, her tiny foot dallied with a blade of
grass, and, almost inaudibly,

"Call me Gunilda," she s