had furnished to the Burgomaster; fixing her large eyes upon him as he spoke, and devouring every syllable of his narrative, with an appearance of intense interest. As he concluded his statement, he declared that he viewed his exile, and the loss of his appointment, with diminished regret, since it had been the happy means of bringing him acquainted with Miss Beverning, whose beautiful eyes had never been absent from his memory since he had first beheld them in the tilting-ground of the Parisian tournament. At this avowal, Constantia again became embarrassed; Miss Vanspaacken assumed a most forbidding and duenna-like demureness of look; and Jocelyn, in order to relieve them both, took down a guitar which was hanging against the wall, and, observing that it was differently constructed from his own, handed it to Constantia, requesting she would enable him to judge of its powers, if he might venture to solicit such a favour upon so short an acquaintance. Without the least hesitation she began tuning the instrument; and, wishing to compliment her visitant with a song in his own language, she warbled in a low, mellow, but withal a somewhat melancholy tone of voice, the following song,-which had been recently set to music by Purcel:

SONG.
1.

My dear mistress has a heart

Soft as those kind looks she gave me,

When with love's resistless art,
And her eyes, she did inflame me.

II.

But her constancy's so weak,

She's so wild and apt to wander,
That my jealous heart would break,
Should we live one day asunder,

III.

Angels listen when she speaks;

She's my delight, all mankind's wonder;
But my jealous heart would break,

Should we live one day asunder.

"The music is by Henry Purcel," said Constantia, "but I know not the author of the words."

Our hero informed her that they were by his friend the Earl of Rochester; and after paying her the compliments she so justly merited, both from her style of singing and her command of the instrument, he mentioned the mad exploit in which his lordship had so lately rendered himself conspicuous, and for which he was at that moment doing penance in the Tower; explaining the manner in which he had been implicated in that outrage, and the atonement he had made, as soon as he had discovered its nature, by procuring the restoration of Mistress Mallett to her friends. To this narrative his fair auditor listened with an attention that seemed to absorb every faculty of her soul. She remained silent at its conclusion, as if anxious that 17*

VOL. II.

he should still continue to speak; but suddenly recollecting herself, and starting from her reverie, she handed the guitar to Jocelyn, exclaiming, "You talked of its being different from your own, and cannot therefore deny that you are a performer. By the custom of minstrelsy, I have a claim upon you for a song."

"It shall be willingly acknowledged, especially to so fair and accomplished a claimant," cried Jocelyn; "but I am not one of those adroit workmen that are indifferent about their tools. These wire and brass strings, to which I have been unaccustomed, would make but jangling music, when touched by an unpractised hand. If my effects, which I ordered to be conveyed hither, have arrived, I will cheerfully attempt a ballad upon my own guitar."

Miss Vanspaacken volunteering her services to show him the apartment, to which the servants had received orders to convey his luggage, he accompanied her up stairs to a room opening into a balcony, filled with rare exotics and the most beautiful shrubs. Every balcony, she informed him, was supplied with choice plants, the captains being instructed to bring home all the botanical curiosities that could be collected in the countries they visited; and every floor had a small green-house warmed by a flue, into which the tenderer plants were removed when the season required it. Among his other effects he soon found his guitar, with which he returned to the breakfast-parlour, attended by

Miss Vanspaacken, who watched him with all the jealousy of a genuine duenna. His instrument was presently put in order, and he accidentally selected for his coup d'essai one of those simple Norman ballads which he had picked up in Paris, and which happened to have been an old favourite with Constantia's mother, who had often sung it to her when a child. France was the country of her affections, not simply because it was her mother's birth-place, but from the memory of the pleasant hours she had passed there in former times, and the cherished friends and relations she had left in it. She doated upon the very language; and when she heard the sweet and manly voice of Jocelyn giving its full expression to the plaintive ballad to which she had so often listened when sitting upon the knee of her departed mother, it awakened a train of tender recollections that quickly overcame her feelings. As she gazed upon the singer the big tears started from her eyes, and rolled unrestrainedly down her cheeks, till Jocelyn was himself deeply affected at the sight of her emotion; and Miss Vanspaacken reproved her tartly, declaring that it was extremely ungenteel to give way to one's feelings at any time, and particularly indecorous in the presence of a stranger.

Hoping to restore the tone of her feelings, which he perceived to be acutely sensitive, Jocelyn changed the strain to one of those brisk and lively chansonettes, of which France supplies such a sparkling

and abundant variety; but it seemed to touch upon no sympathising chord in the heart of Constantia. She had recovered her firmness, but was not to be exhilarated so easily as she had been melted: though she was no longer sad, she appeared to have little relish for gaiety. He accordingly laid aside his instrument; and entering into conversation with her, found that she discoursed with intelligence upon all subjects, and with the eloquence of a deep and earnest enthusiasm upon those which more immediately interested her feelings. So pleasantly was he absorbed in this colloquy, that he was not less surprised than annoyed when the Burgomaster entered, with his watch in his hand, exclaiming, "Aha! Signor Cavaliero, twelve o'clock, and not ready? You will learn to be punctual when you have been with us a little longer. Four hundred and thirteen bales of Amboyna nutmegs; think of that! I know you would be disappointed if I did not give you the promised treat by showing you my beauty, De Vrouw Roosje; so, come along, for the boatmen are waiting."

Though Jocelyn most devoutly wished the Vrouw Roosje at the bottom of the Zuyder-zee, preferring the beauty he was with to all the wooden charmers that ever floated, he could not venture to offend his host, but reluctantly accompanied him to the waterside; filled with admiration of his lovely daughter, and leaving Constantia not less vividly impressed by the character and accomplishments of her fa