before experienced. My spirits sunk, and a heavy gloom seemed to hang over me, which I could not shake off—too sure a presage that my happiest days were flown to return no more. At supper, I tried to appear cheerful; 'twas an attempt only; for sighs surcharged my bosom in spite of my endeavours to repress them. The Count saw my emotions, and made an effort to be talkative:—At length he said, "We both feel sorrow for our good father, but you know, my love, he often suffered such misery, as his real friends cannot be sorry that he is released from ——— Most fortunately for us, he lived long enough to give you a husband and a protector. Had he died before that period, how much more cause would you have had for sorrow, without a friend in the world near you." There was something in this speech that displeased me, and I was considering what answer to make, when he added; "except our Frank, there remains no witness now of our union."
"Yes," I replied with some earnestness; "I have one material one, a certificate drawn
