arms. On being recalled to life by the speedy sprinkling of cold water, her eyes were drowned in tears, as if she had just met with some great misfortune. Her more experienced mother was soon convinced that the rich brewer’s proposal was not received with the least pleasure, at which she expressed her astonishment. She then spared neither prayers nor entreaties, with much good advice, to remove Mela’s unaccountable objections to so desirable an offer;—for where would she find a wealthier husband? Still the latter could not be persuaded that she should be happy in a match to which her heart was so much averse, though the arguments on both sides were continued with little intermission for the space of many days. Early and late, before meals and after meals, until the period for returning an answer approached, was the spirit of their debate kept alive. The brewer was on the tip-toe of expectation; the grand, gigantic candle intended for an offering to St. Christopher,—a candle which might have delighted the heart of a king of Basan, to have been burning at his wedding, was now in readiness. It was beautifully ornamented with variegated flowers, yet with all this, the ungrateful saint had neglected to propitiate the heart and feelings of the fair Mela, to accept the jolly brewer’s suit.
Meanwhile her mother’s persuasions and appeals
