derly to my breast. “The day after to-morrow,” I said, “I must leave this place, and then I never—never more shall see you! Indeed, I ought to have set out this very morning, but the hope of finding you once more, has kept me back; it has led me all the day around your neighbourhood, it has guided me on the way to the hermiiage, and there, busy in preparing the herbs on the step of the chapel, I again found you. Those roots must surely contain some hidden charm to cure a mind diseased. Ah! perhaps they may afford relief to me as well; for the thought of parting with you, and for ever! creates within my heart an agonizing pain. May I then hope, that you will spare me also some, which, prepared by your sweet hands, cannot but afford a soft and healing balm?”—Thus then, was made my declaration of love in the first hour of our meeting! With a city dame, this would have appeared a mere effusion of gallantry, an ordinary complimentary phrase of little import; but the lovely simple Swiss girl took my words in that true sense and honourable meaning with which they had been uttered.
“You have sought for me, you have remained here on my account!”—she exclaimed, while an enchanting smile of flattered self-satisfaction played upon her ruby lips.
I then ingeniously informed her, of the deep impression the scene on the evening before at the grave of her departed mother, had made upon my feelings; of the desire and interest that had been excited in me to know more about her, and expressed the happiness I felt at having attained this. I confessed to her the admiration and wonder which her virtue and her charms had created in me, and concluded by intreating her, in the most urgent manner, to let me once more, the following day, speak with her, if it were only to bid her a long and last adieu!
The idea of parting is ever attended with a charm which works upon the feelings and heart in a peculiarly forcible manner. How often does it happen, that in assemblies where a certain coldness and stiffness of character may have prevailed
