uld say you had lost your best
friend;" and putting her dimpled mouth close to her ear, she whispered
some mysterious words so softly,--so very softly, that were we disposed
to turn listener, we could only have distinguished that one
word,--"Delwood;" but we might have seen the delicate tinge of pink,
which, tell-tale like, overspread the face and neck of the Sea-flower.
Be that as it may, there was a thoughtful look lingering about those
expressive features, which could even be traced, when at night-fall, a
well-known step was heard, echoing with no unpleasant sound along the
corridor, and a hand, which, though of feminine delicacy, could have
been fired with sufficient nerve to have wielded a giant's weapon, at
the invader who should come between him and the gentle being, whose hand
was not withdrawn as he held it reverently within his own.

"Ah, Miss Sea-flower," said Delwood, as he gazed deep into her eyes,
"you are far away among the invisible sprites of ocean to-night, are
you? not one thought for us poor unfortunates, who are so ungenial to
those translucent ones, as never to have been initiated to their fairy
haunts. Really; I must get up a little smile at your expense, for you
could not better please an artist, in the composing of your features, if
you were sitting for your picture. By the way, have you seen the famous
Madonna, whose great beauty is the theme of all conversation? I am told
it is a master-piece, by some gentleman who appears not anxious that his
brilliant artistical powers shall be published, as his name never
accompanies his works, and the piece in question was but by accident,
brought to public view. It hangs, among others, in his fine gallery of
paintings, and is hung with a heavy drapery of black, which was by
chance removed by a gentleman, a friend of mine, who offered a handsome
fortune at once for the prize; but his rich offer was declined by the
owner, who, to the gentleman's earnest desire that he might become its
possessor, replied,--'sir, that bit of inanimate canvas is all upon
which my weary life feeds! were you to offer me the wealth of the world,
I would not part with that one small picture! neither can I be wrought
upon to produce a copy of the same, without violating feelings which
are sacred.' Whether this is a fancy piece, or if it bears the semblance
of some one of his kindred, my friend did not inform me, as he said his
very tongue clave to the roof of his mouth, as the sad a