the bitter lessons of experience."

"Our opinions on this subject," said Lucie, "I fear must remain entirely
at variance; but, as I have yet many months left for reflection, let us
at present suspend the discussion. Here is Annette's cottage; and, if
you please, I will extend my walk a little, and return when I think you
are sufficiently rested from your fatigue."

Madame de la Tour readily assented to her proposal; and Lucie, guided by
that delightful association of thought and feeling, which leads us to
retrace, with so much pleasure, the scenes where we have lingered with
those we love, directed her steps to a wooded bank, which overhung the
water, where she had last parted from Arthur Stanhope. The sun was
setting with unwonted splendor, and the bright reflection of his golden
beams tinged the cloudless sky with a thousand rich and varied hues,
from the deep purple which blended with his crimson rays, to the pale
amber, and cerulean tint, that melted into almost fleecy whiteness. The
earth glowed beneath its splendid canopy, and the trees, which skirted
the border of the bay, threw their lengthened shadows upon the quiet
waves, which lay unruffled and bathed in the glory of the gorgeous
heavens.

Lucie stood on the very spot where she had received the last adieu of
Stanhope, and the same objects which now met her eyes, were the mute
witnesses of that parting scene. Every leaf that trembled around her
revived some cherished remembrance; and the breeze, which sighed through
the foliage, was soft as the voice of whispered love. But painful
conjectures respecting his present situation, at length engrossed every
thought; and the recollections of happiness, and dreams of hope, were
alike absorbed in the suspense and anxiety which, for many days, had
gathered gloomily around her. She involuntarily glanced across the bay,
as if expecting that some messenger would approach with tidings; and she
started with joyful surprise, on observing a vessel just below, and, at
that moment, on the point of anchoring. She gazed earnestly for a short
time, and her heart throbbed audibly as she saw a small boat leave its
side and steer directly towards the fort; two persons were in it, and
the dark flowing garments of father Gilbert could not be mistaken.

Love, it is said, though notoriously blind in the main, is quick-sighted
on such occasions; and another glance assured Lucie, that the companion
of the holy father, who plied the oars