F. Butler.
The next day was unusually warm. Heavy clouds had been slowly rising up from behind the hills all the morning, till they covered the whole sky, and frowned darkly down upon the gay city—and the air was hushed with heavy silence. Mrs. Villars and her daughters were sitting in the drawing-room, at work; and Colonel Hargrave sat at a side table, near the window, touching up a sketch, which he had that morning finished, of the venerable abbey. Mr. Villars, too, walked into the room, for people love to be together when a storm is coming. He took up the paper, and sat down. Lucy looked fondly at him from her work—and then walked to the window to look at Hargrave's drawing, and to whisper him to come away, in case it lightened—for, between them, a friendship had sprung newly up—she had thanked him for all that had before offended her, and he was always ready with some little act, which shewed he felt a kindness for her.
He told her he was finishing his sketch for her album—and she thanked him frankly, and not with the blush, as formerly, which is as often the tell-tale of a sinful, as of an innocent heart, and reminded him that he had promised her some lines for her album, as well, and she would go and fetch it.
"Well," said he, when she returned with it; "bring me a pen, for I have just made an impromptu."
She brought him a large goose quill, and, after carefully mending it, he wrote as the sky grew blacker and blacker, the following lines:—
"As the sun-light on the fountain,
As the ivy on the tree,
As the snow upon the mountain,
Or the moonlight on the sea.
"As the zephyr gently blowing,
As the dew-drop on the rose,
As the rippling water flowing,
As the sun at evening's close.
"So is woman in the beauty,
Of a heart unstained by sin;
When bright eyes beam with purity,
Which they borrow from within."
"There," he said, passing her back the book, "now I will finish the sketch; but," he added, under his breath, "do go and look for Mabel, the storm is coming up so fast—I hope she is not out."
"No, she is in her room I dare say, but I will go and find her if I can."
So saying, Lucy left the room, bearing the album with her, to read the lines to Mabel.
As soon as she was gone, Mrs. Villars looked up from her work and said to Hargrave—