ver-changing face
of the mellow skies, or roaming through those ancient halls, she might
feast her eyes on the many antique surroundings; but most of all, she
loved to linger in the great reception hall, whose walls were hung with
the portraits of her mother's family, for many past generations. Some of
those countenances denoted men of much strength of character, amounting
almost to a fierceness, but in nearly every female face Natalie
discerned that same gentleness of spirit, which, unknown to herself, was
the expression of her own spiritual countenance. Beneath the portrait
of the last Mrs. Alboni was a place reserved for that of her child,--the
Lady Sunderland; but by some circumstance it had never been placed
there. During the period of our heroine's stay in Italy, she spent much
of her time in the home of her ancestors, to which she became greatly
attached; but once having been introduced to an admiring Italian
assembly, it was no easy matter to remain in seclusion. This new star,
so mild, yet brilliant, was the theme of present conversation. She never
appeared in public, but the blessings of high and low marked her way;
and as she knelt in public worship, meekly bowing at the name of Christ,
there was not one who looked upon her, but this passage of Scripture was
brought to their minds,--"If the righteous scarcely are saved, where
shall the ungodly and the sinner appear?"

But all times come to an end; passing away, is written upon everything
pertaining to earth; and the time when our friends should return to
their island home, drew near.

It was the day before they would bid adieu to pleasant scenes here, to
journey to Liverpool, for business led Mr. Alboni to sail for America
from that port. The sun had gone down,--the last sunset which the
Sea-flower would look upon here,--the last sunset! Pause, dear
reader,--when will that same sun set to us for the last time? It may be
soon, it may be later; yet it is the same, for all time is present with
God. The evening shades began to claim their reign, regardless of the
smiles and entreaties of lingering day, that he would delay his
approach,--fit symbol of sunny youth, who would banish from his presence
death's unrelenting grasp. And yet, who does not love night with earnest
tenderness? and has no one a smile for death?

Natalie still lingered beneath the ivy trellis, her feet drawn upon the
cushions, for she would not crush the gentle flowers, which told to her
the