pious fortitude, that robbed it of its horrors, and her spirit appeared impatient to burst its frail tenement, and soar to a better world.

"The portrait was, at her request, delivered to me, and I have ever since carefully preserved it. Its resemblance to Isabel struck me, but I thought that might have been only fancy, till you agreed with me in opinion.".

"I am sorry that you know not the name of the original (cried the abbess), for I own that I wish to penetrate the mystery of Isabel's birth; not from idle curiosity, but froin real interest for the sweet orphan, whom I love as a daughter."

"And well worthy is she of your affection (replied the signora). Sweet Isabel my heart too adopts thee for its own."

"I do not think (cried the lady abbess), that Isabel, though destined for a religious life, and educated in a convent, is partial to it; yet, alas! she

will not, I fear, be allowed any other choice. I am convinced, were Isabel at liberty, her heart would prompt her to remain in the abode of her early years; but I know she fears the vows. She spoke the other day in terms of enthusiasm of the fortitude with which sister Frances had pronounced them."

"A life of religious retirement (said. I to her), is the choice of sister"Frances; she has lived in the world; she has been disgusted with its vain and empty pleasures. The time she spent in our convent previous to her noviciate, convinced her that here she was likely to find peace; and though still young, beautiful, and rich, she quitted the: world without a sigh.'

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Happy sister Frances! (exclaimed. Isabel). Oh! how much is she to be envied; she had the power to chuse Irer destiny."

"The unconscious emphasis which the dear orphan laid upon her words, gave me, for the first time, an idea.

- that she disliked a monastic life, and my heart bled for her; since, alas! if my fears are just, her portion of temporal happiness will be small."

"She cannot be forced to take the veil (cried the signora); and surely her mysterious protector would not be barbarous enough to sacrifice her happiness. Willingly would I receive her as my third daughter, if he would yield her

to me."

"A short time (said the abbess) must decide her destiny; the Virgin grant that it may be a happy one."

The signora joined her friend most heartily in this wish, and they parted.

CHAP. IX.

ISABEL now approached her sixteenth year, and Montalva had signified to the lady abbess at that age she was to commence her noviciate.

"In three months Isabel takes the white veil (said the signora, to her daughter Julia, in the presence of Alberto). How is it that there are moments when the mind shrinks from those truths, which it has been accustomed to hear? Alberto Sforza had known for years that Isabel was destined to the veil, he had loved her as a sister, but how he might bear the loss of her so

ciety was a question that he had never asked himself; now, the conviction burst upon him, that she was dearer to his heart than the life-blood that flowed within it. His instant change of countenance caught the signora's attention, and she tenderly enquired whether he was well? he answered, yes; and left her that he might ruminate in silence on the discovery that he had made.

And, why (thought he, when he was alone), why dearest Isabel, should I lose you? beloved as you are by my mother, surely she will not object to receive you as a daughter, and what objection can be made to your choice by your friends? Friends, they do not deserve the name, for so many years to let a lovely orphan remain unnoticed; what hearts must they have, but thou wast not formed, sweet Isabel, to whither in the gloom of a convent; thy mild virtues are fitted to adorn a worthier lot; and oh how blest, how transcendently