aware would best assimilate with her taste, and afford her, what in her estimation surpassed every other enjoyment,—the intellectual and the pleasing.
Having minutely examined every painting, and admired the respective beauties of each, so nicely delineated, and pointed out to her observation by Melliphant, he placed a chair for her at the table of prints, leaving her there, to indulge in all the luxury of her taste, whilst he resumed conversation with Mrs. De Brooke. He had purposely laid upon the table, Rousseau's "Nouvelle Heloise;" she might be led to open it; it was in French, and glowing in all the brilliancy of original description, he had conceived it could not fail to captivate her.
He sat from her apart, at some distance; but though supporting an animated discourse, the most trifling gesture of Rosilia escaped not his attention. Having been fully gratified by an inspection of the prints, she laid her hand upon "Heloise;" she removed it from its place; she opened it. The words in the title-page, "The woman who reads this is lost!" Melliphant had taken care to obliterate. As an insidious foe, ruminating upon his dark intent, his eye at times deeply fixed upon her from under his lowering brow.
She continued reading; and the features of Melliphant, as he threw himself back in his chair, with folded arms, relaxed into that smile which seemed to proceed from some cruel joy,—some malicious hope,—
