me your cousin."

Two young girls entered immediately. One of them was lively and active,
with black eyes and a ruddy complexion; the other pale, fair, and
delicate. The first gave her hand gaily to Ireneus, and kissed him on
both cheeks; the other advanced timidly, and with downcast eyes, leaning
her brow forward to be kissed.

"My dear cousins," said Ireneus, "my mother would have been delighted, as
I am, to have seen you; but being unable to make this long journey in
Sweden, has sent you at least a token of her affection." As he spoke, he
took from his pocket a little morocco box, which the agile Alete took and
opened with eagerness.

"What pretty ear-rings!" said she; "what a charming ring! See that little
blue cross, and the bracelet set with emeralds. Such jewels are made only
in Paris. Come look at them, Ebba!"

During all this time, Ebba stood aside motionless and silent. She then
approached the table on which her sister had displayed the jewels, and
looked at them without speaking.

"Is not this pretty?" said Alete. "We must divide them; and as I have a
lover who will make it a point of honor to give me as many ornaments as
my whim dictates and his fortune will permit, I wish you to take the
larger part."

"No," said Ebba, with a voice soft as that of a child, "as you are about
to be married you should have all as a wedding present. If you will
however let me keep this little cross, I shall be very grateful."

Alete, who under the mask of frivolity concealed a tender and delicate
heart, sought in vain to overcome the modesty of her sister; and finally,
with much reluctance, received three-quarters of the jewel-case.

"Now, young ladies," said their father, who had been an observer of this
contest of generosity, "remember that your cousin has made a long
journey. See if his room is in order and if supper is ready; for when one
has passed the whole day in crossing our snow-plains, some comfort is
required."

"They are good and affectionate children," continued the father, when
they had gone out. "The eldest is a gipsy who delights me with her
gayety; the youngest often moves me even to tears. Her mother died in
giving birth to her. The poor girl seems constantly under the influence
of the misfortune which presided over her birth.

"None of the things in which girls of her age delight, please or excite
her. Her silent and retiring life, seems one long act of resignation.
She finds interest in story and