pleasant accident had befallen you, and I thought so too. You, as well as I, have read of valiant knights who have sallied forth to rescue distressed damsels, but the case in the present instance is reversed. There are two damsels who have ventured forth to ascertain the welfare of two wandering knights. Now, Arabel, don't deny it."

"That the design was huniane and beneficent, I don't deny," said the blushing girl. "Yet, justice to you compels me to say that I had no other object in view except taking my accustomed morning ride. Consequently, though praise is sweet, I've no claim either to praise or thanks. They are due to you alone."

"I must own that Arabel is right. I took some pains to make her think that the lake was in a different direction. The truth is, since she has been our guest, here in the woods, she doesn't know north from south."

"Though it would enhance the pleasure of this meeting," said Pemberton, "to know that by neither of you it was involuntary, still"

"Nay," said Mrs. Wentworth, interrupting him, "prevarication won't hide the truth. I believe that you would not have been glad if she had come voluntarily. Be ingenuous, Pemberton, and own that you are glad that she didn't suspect the artifice."

"I will own that I am not displeased." Just then two lads on horseback entered the glade, each leading a fine horse, which, in the fashion of those earlier days, were gayly caparisoned. Meanwhile the sunbeams streaming through the trees, cast bars of gold across the forest paths, or fell in broken rays through the green boughs, as if an unseen company of blithesome elves were showering down their hoard of shining gems.

Now and then the lively Mrs. Wentworth would raise to her lips her tiny bugle and send a silvery peal through the old woods, awakening the echoes among the hills, where they had slept, as far as was not known to the contrary, as long and as soundly as Rip Van Winkle, of facetious memory, slept in Sleepy Hollow, a place to which he might haply wander, with the benevolent intention of giving his thrifty dame's sharp tongue time to rest, and the east winds, so prevalent in the home atmosphere, time to lull.

As the roughness of the way prevented the equestrians from making rapid progress, we will precede them and take a look at the mansion and some of its surroundings, where Governor Wentworth, the last of the Colonial governors of New Hampshire, was wont to resort in summer for recreation. The house was situated in the easterly part of what is now the town of Wolfborough. It was a stately edifice, and built in a style of great magnificence. The interior was furnished with elaborate mouldings, carvings, and other decorations.

One of the apartments was called the blue chamber, the walls being painted blue and the upholstery of blue damask. Another room, on account of the whole process of tea manufacture being represented on the walls, was called the Chinese chamber. Barns, sheds, and stalls were in convenient proximity, the latter for the accommodation of the finest horses which at that period-so it was said-were ever brought into New England. An extensive park was likewise laid out and in course of preparation in a manner to make it resemble English parks. The party soon drew rein within the spacious court-yard. The governor was there with a warm welcome for his old-time friend.

CHAPTER III.

MRS. WENTWORTH and Arabel, as had been their custom, rode every day when the weather permitted. Pemberton usually rode with them, and sometimes Richard, who, from the merriest, had come to be the most sober and reticent of them all. His thoughts would wander back to the old picturesque house by the side of the lake, where Bessie Winwood's dark eyes sent Love's first golden shaft that ever pierced his, until then, invulnerable heart. His grave, thoughtful look did not escape the notice of the philanthropic hostess, who, by adroit inquiries, soon drew from Pemberton incidents which made her suspect the cause.

"O spirit of love, how quick and fresh thou art!" she said. "I now, more devoutly than ever, believe in love at first sight. I am not one to hesitate and wait. The social wants up here in these New Hampshire wilds are comparatively few and simple. We are released from strict conventionalities. We need not wait for bridal veil, nor for orange flowers to twine the bridal wreath. Roses with vital pulses thrilling their leaves will better suit this beauty of the lake-side."

Thoughts like these came to her mind as she took counsel with herself. Soon she reined her horse to the side of Pemberton's.

"I have a plan in my mind," she said. "What do you think it is?"

"I cannot imagine. An imagination as fertile as yours can weave into a plan such various and brilliant threads as my duller, more sober, and less inventive mind would fail to see. tell me what it is, if you wish for my help.” "Well, it is a double wedding."

So

"May I inquire who are the parties to be thus favored?"

"Most certainly. Hugh Pemberton is one, a gentleman whom the governor delights to honor."

"And the lady-who is she?"

"One whom the governor's wife holds high in her affection and esteem, as one sister ought to hold another."

"Her name?"

"Need I tell you? Don't you know?" "How should I? I am as yet a stranger in this region."

"You make strange of it, because you wish to hear me speak her name. I will own that Arabel slips from the lips both readily and sweetly."

"Arabel! Neither your eloquence nor mine will win her consent to what you wish."

enchanter, which had been waved over them, could of a desert make a paradise.

Meanwhile, incidents being few and far between, by which to vary the dull sameness, Mrs. Wentworth put her heart into her efforts to devise ways and means whereby preliminaries for the weddings could be speedily and happily accomplished. She caused a dress of white muslin, chosen from fabrics over the sea, to be prepared for Bessie by one well skilled in the mysteries of mantua-making. The same hand also fashioned the richer dress of white and silver brocade for Arabel.

Woo."

"Admiration is very different from love, and the difference is easily distinguished. How did she receive your look of admiration?"

"In return, she assumed towards me an air of distance and reserve."

"Not a jot more than you assumed towards her. Hugh Pemberton; believe me when I say that you, and you alone, possess the key which can unlock as noble and pure a heart, full of all womanly and generous impulses, as ever thrilled beneath the glance of love."

"But you know that we were entire strangers to each other, so that those very qualities you ascribe to her, which represent her as modest and retiring, would prevent her from having the most distant idea that a bachelor of thirty could be still fancy free, and that the deeper emotions of the heart could be vitalized and quickened into life in so short a time. Were I to tell her so even now, I am afraid she would think me too presuming, and in too much of a hurry."

"In that you are mistaken. All you have to do, as I've already said, is to let your heart be teacher to your tongue."

"I must give you the flower called heart'sease, as an emblem of the heart's ease your words have given me. But you say that you have planned a double wedding."

CHAPTER IV.

THE sun was beginning to look over the purple hills, darting his beams on the shining prow of the boat which, some weeks previously, was anchored in a little cove under the embankment where Bessie, for the first time, saw Richard Sinclair. Just then a cheerful party reached the shore of the lake. In a few minutes all were in the boat-Richard and Bessie, Mr. and Mrs. Winwood, and James, all of whom had been bidden to the wedding. The wind being fair, they were soon skimming over the lake, swift as the gull flying to her nest.

After landing they soon reached the glade, where they found horses awaiting them, two being furnished with side-saddles for Bessie and her mother. As they drew near the mansion of the governor, the smoke of the kitchen. chimney, gracefully rising in spiral wreaths, showed that the wedding feast was already in preparation. IIad there been misgivings on a point of such grave import, a peep into the kitchen would have proved it to be true beyond doubt or cavil. Around the fire, that sent its ruddy blaze in sparkling flashes up through the wide-throated chimney, were various meats emitting appetizing odors, from the essential beef down to the partridge and other savory fowl. Chafing-dishes were ready for the haunch of venison, and the haunch of venison was ready to be sliced. The store-room, too, displayed shelves well filled with pies and cake, among which generous loaves of veritable wedding-cake with frosting white as snow, and adorned with devices pretty and quaint, were not the least conspicuous.

"Certainly I have, and he approves it. IIe, moreover, gives me license to manage all as I please."

Richard Sinclair did not forget to make the promised visit to Bessie. When at sunset they walked on the shore of the beautiful lake, or visited other favorite haunts, she could not but wonder at their increased beauty, not imagining that the transforming wand of the VOL. XCIII.-9

The little bridal party was kindly welcomed. Mr. Wentworth, with pleasant words taking Bessie's hand, conducted her to a chamber where, on a blue damask sofa, was displayed the bridal dress. Near it lay some long, white kid gloves, though not so long as to prevent the dimpled elbows from gleaming through the

SEVILLE.

BY CORTEZ.

(Leaves from an old Journal.) "Quien no ha visto Sevilla, no ha visto maravilla." It was upon a fine morning in May that I found myself, at sunrise, on board a very comfortable steamboat, standing across the Bay of Cadiz, and bound for Seville via the Guadalquivir. The banks of this river, for some distance above its mouth, are low and marshy, offering no fine scenery to the tourist. Immense herds of horses, oxen, and all sorts of cattle were grazing through the marshes; the water is of a yellow color (like that of the Mississippi) from the mud with which it is filled; and its size alone recommends this famous river-famous in many a romance and lay. Near the mouth of the river passed the old town of San Lucaz, once a port of great consequence, now quite insignificant; it is a very antique and curious looking town. Most of my fellow passengers were English; and here again I saw what had frequently struck me in my travels, to wit, the indifferent and neglect. ful demeanor of the men towards their wives or sisters. Often have I met, on the Rhine and elsewhere, parties of them wandering about, the women loaded down with bags, packages, guide-books, etc., while the men sauntered along, carrying nothing but their canes. Even so had I seen, in the far west, one of our Indian warriors with nothing but his rifle and powder-horn, while his squaw staggered beside him loaded down with all the family effects tied up in a blanket and placed upon her back.

To return to our party. I was lying on a settee in the saloon, from which a door led into the ladies' cabin, which one of the ladies wished to enter, but the door having become jammed, she stood for some time making fruitless efforts to open it, until at last I got up and opened it for her; and all this time two men of her party were stretched out upon the settees looking very quietly at her vain endeavors. I am sorry to add that the lady passed in without in any way thanking me for my services.

As we approached Seville the banks of the river became much higher and the scenery more interesting, although none of it possesses much beauty. Long before our arrival the far-famed Giralda was in sight, towering far above all the rest of the city. Close to the wharf where we landed, stands the celebrated Golden Tower, which was in existence in the time of Julius Cæsar, and is mentioned by him as being, even then, very old. It had recently been rubbed up, repaired completely and painted cream-color in honor of the Infantas (Duchess of Montpensier's) residence of Seville. So far as appearance goes, it has lost all the beauty of an antique, as it looks as if it might have been built yesterday.

The Alameda, close to the landing, is very handsome; a double row of trees, large and flourishing, gives a most grateful shade to this favorite promenade of the Sevillanas.

The Plaza de Toros is also close by, and the bull fights here are the most famous in Spain; the amphitheatre will seat 10,000 persons, and it is generally well filled. It is here that the famous Matador gained most of his laurels. A bridge of boats in front of it connects the city with a suburb called Triana, where thousands of gitanos, or gypsies, reside; they being obliged to confine themselves to this suburb. Whole streets are occupied solely by this singular race, who are said to retain all their ancient habits and customs; one of the most prominent of which, I should think, was a fondness for dirt, for I never saw anything more filthy or disgusting than their houses; and their personal appearance was quite in keeping with their dwellings. Their faces are dark, swarthy, and repulsive; the Egyptian cast of feature predominating. Their honesty is more than doubtful, and visitors to their suburb are very properly warned to look out for their pockets. I do not know why it should be so, but in a savage or semi-civilized society the men are invavariably neater and more cleanly than the women; this is the case among our Indians, and it was so among the gypsies of Triana. Why should this principle of neatness, so general in the civilized feminine, be wanting in her savage sister?

There are several old ruined towers and remains of walls close by here, some of which are Roman, and remind us that we are upon the site of the ancient Hispalis; the relics of the Romans are, however, very scarce. The cathedral of Seville is the finest in Spain, and, so far as my observation goes, in Europe also, after St. Peter's, no other surpasses it in solemn grandeur; and the cathedral at Cologne is the only one which will equal it. The exterior of the buildings (for there are several joined together) presents a curious contrast of styles. One part was built in the seventh century by the Goths, and subsequently enlarged upon the same plans, by the Spaniards. The Sacristy is comparatively modern; while a range of buildings, forming two sides of the square of which the whole consists, is entirely Arabian. To this portion belongs the celebrated Giralda; this is a square, brick tower, which was built in the twelfth century by Algebir, a famous Moorish architect and mathematician, from whose name we have derived the term algebra. The town was originally surmounted by a large iron ball, which, being gilded, reflected the rays of the sun. In more modern days, however, a smaller tower was added in place of this ball, and the height of the whole is now 360 feet; it is surmounted by a colossal female figure of brass, representing the Faith; this figure serves as a weathercock (in Spanish, giralda), whence

the name of the tower. A brick pavement, with a very slight inclination, leads up against the sides to the top of the tower; this paved passage is about six feet wide, and the ascent to the top has frequently been made on horseback. Ferdinand VII. ascended in this manner in this century; but in olden times it was done by knights in full armor; the ascent is so gradual, however, that it is nothing of a feat. The view from the top is very extensive; but the environs of Seville are not remarkable for beauty. It was on the top of this tower that Alonzo de Ojeda performed his harebrained feats for the amusement of Queen Isabella, -vide Washington Irving.

To return to the cathedral-the immense number, the size, and especially the height of the stone pillars, the width of the aisles, and the great height of the nave, all conspire to give the interior an unusually grand appearance; while its strictly Gothic architecture and the "dim, religious light" which pervades it, make it the most solemn edifice of the kind I have ever entered. Everything is very simple, and grand in its simplicity; there is very little tinsel, and the marbles which surround the choir are exquisitely beautiful.

The remains of Ferdinand III. (St. Ferdinand) are preserved here, and are shown to the faithful several times a year. Pedro the Cruel, Maria Padilla, and other celebrities are buried here; but the most conspicuous and interesting tomb is that of Ferdinand Columbus, the son of the great discoverer. His tomb is beneath the pavement of the cathedral, and nearly in the centre; a large, white marble slab is inserted in the pavement, an inscription on which commemorates his own and his father's services; below are the lines so well known in connection with Columbus:

"A Castilla y a Leon

Mundo muebo dio Colon;"

the letter b in muebo being used in the old style in place of v. On each side of this inscription is a representation of an old-fashioned ship, or caravel, such as Columbus used.

A great many of Murillo's pictures adorn the walls, some of them very handsome and celebrated. The most famous is his "St. Anthony," but I preferred the "Baptism of Christ by John," which is a very remarkable painting, and one before which you can linger for hours, finding new beauties continually developing themselves.

The church plate is very valuable and well worth seeing; quite a large room is appropriated to it, and the number of angels, candlesticks, altars, lamps, etc. (all of solid silver), is very great, and must be worth an immense sum of money. The church of Spain is still quite rich, notwithstanding the gleanings of Napoleon's marshals, who helped themselves most unscrupulously to everything of value they could find. The library adjoining the

cathedral, is very rich in old books and manuscripts, and contains, among other curiosities, the sword of the "great captain," Gonzaloo de Cordova.

I picked up an ex-Franciscan monk for a guide, and found him very conversant with the history of everything in the churches. As he had ceased to be a monk, he had also divested himself of most of his faith (if he ever had any)in the forms and ceremonies of his church. He told me that since the closing of the monasteries, the monks were driven to all manner of shifts for a livelihood; they were promised five reals (25 cents) a day in lieu of their property, which was all confiscated by the government; but he said he had only been paid during one month of the previous year, and in this year he had not received a single real, although it was May; not a bad business transaction for the government, as the property confiscated had been very valuable.

The Alcazar (the old palace of the Moorish kings) was occupied at this time by the Infanta and her husband, the Duke of Montpensier, and was, consequently, closed to the public. The gardens were still open, however, and very beautiful they were; part of them is of Moorish construction, the rest was made by Pedro the Cruel for Maria Padilla. They are laid out with much taste, though in rather too formal a style, and the general effect is very fine; the borders of the flower-beds are of box, which has been cultivated to a very great height, and seems quite a favorite. At the sides of the gardens orange-trees have been trained to lie flat against the wall, and they resemble a thick creeper more than a tree. There are a great many fountains, the pipes of which are conducted under the walks of the garden in such a manner that, upon turning on the water, hundreds of small jets d'eau spring up in every direction, and drench those who may be walking in the gardens unawares of the trick.

Under the palace are the baths of Maria Padilla, a very long gallery, with heavy vaulted arches, and marble sides about two feet high. It must have been a very gloomy place, unless lighted up, and the bath was too shallow to be much of a luxury. Close by is a dungeon, with but one small window, and that opening upon the bath. The story is that Pedro, the cruel, confined his wife, Blanche of Bourbon, in this dungeon, that she might have the additional punishment of seeing her rival, Maria Padilla, in all the glory of a favorite's indulgence.

The Lonja, or Exchange, was built under Philip II. It is a fine, massive building, of stone, one of the grandest structures in Spain; and its great staircase, composed of every variety of rich marbles, is truly magnificent. Here are preserved all the archives of the Indies; all the papers referring to Columbus' voyages and discoveries, to the subsequent