LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1401, 12 August 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE STRONGER VOW OP THE TWO.

[Argosy.] Not more than ten years ago, while Verona still sighed under foreign dominion, the old palace owned by the younger line of the " Portalupi " wore a dismal aspect. The last Portalupi lived there within those walls; a woman to whom nature had lent all her charms, who called beauty, talen's, and a noble heart her own. It was certainly no fit place for her to live iD, that old palace with its immense rooms, its tapestries, illustrating the deeds of her ancestors, its old-fashioned furniture, its sileut retainers. She inhabited the back part of the house, where a small garden was somewhat more to her taste th«n the state room* of the palac, which had been opened but once in her life. In this garden she had spent her childhood and (.art of her girlhood ; an orphan entrusted t • the care of servants, and to a nun, who had been placed at her side to act as governess and guide. The poor young heiress of the PortaJupi had teen but few bright days in her life. All the gifts endowed upon her gave her no joy ; they bore no fruits for her or others Had she loved the nun with the pale face and grey eyes, who had been ever at her side, life might still have had some happiness, for nothing ever d : sturbed the tranquil succession of days. But Drusilla had an inborn dislike for the w man whose white nun's cap hid overshadowed her cradle. When she began to understand what was said to her, Kster Agnes told her the history of her birth; told her that her mother had died in giving life to the little girl; that her father, passionately fond of his wife, had died of a broken heart not six mouths later. The poor child spent lunrs in thinking ovo- the fate of her parents. Her only consolation was an uncle, a brother of h<r m Cher's, who sometimes came to see her; but who, an old bache or himself, and living in a distant town, could not take the charge of her upon himself, although Drusilla often begged him, with tears in her eyes, to carry h«r away with him. When Drufilia's fifteenth birthday came, her uncle visited her, and told her that he had chosen a husband for her, whose acquaintance she might however make, before deciding Avhether she would have him or not. I 'rusilla made her mind up to do the least she could —ihat is, to look at.her predestined husband. He was a v nerable old gentleman, of a family as rich and powerful as the Portalupis, but enough to make any other young girl utter a hasty— S 0 ! But Drusilla had no means of comparing him with anyone elae. She 'heretore thought she would try it Anything was better than living in the old house with nobody to speak to but Sister Agnes. 11 was thus that Drusilla entered the sacred st»t? of matrimony, and it did not turn out to bo what sh-i had thought it. Sister Agnes did not leave her as she had hoped, but came with her into her new abode. She therefore had the choice of either her husband's or her nurse's society. The former took very little notice of her. Why he had married her she failed to see ; it must ha ,r e been for some mysterious reason, which he jealously concealed from her She had been wife to him only in name. He very soon fell ill. and then Drusilla's truly feminine nature awoke. She nursed him with a daughter's tenderness. He died blessing her, as he would hava blessed a daughter -but her heart did not break when she changed h»r beautiful dresses for the trailing black parments befitting a widow. A str.»n;;e little widow she was. with her childish fa-e, and the innocent eyes, which f-ti : l Poked inquiringly into the world, as though n t one of life's mysteries had be<n revealed to her.

She very soon left her husband's palace, and returned to the garden where she had .-pent her childhood. At first the few whom she had come to know during her marriage visited her often ; but Sister Agnes knew how to keep them al of, and about a year after the d*ath of her husband Drusilla was again alone.

One day her uncle came on a visit. And when he saw her, a lonely widow, without the sorrow which make 3 solitude desirable, with 'O much of a child still in her, he pitied her. He stayed with her a long time, and somewhat changed the monotonous course of her lif». The -widow's garments were laid aside, and society was sought and received. Rut very soon Drusiila's uncle discovered that his niece had after all been very much neglected Her educ<ti>n was not what a Portalupi's ought to have b>en, although ber manners woald, in their graceful simplicity, have become a princess. Thus scarcely a day passed without some blurder being committed, which was a«ony to the uncle, who began to be very proud of his beautiful niece, and which cost Drusilla herself many a tear. A teacher was engaged, and as Drusilla objected to an old professor - she had had enough of old men—a young priest from the neighbouring convent of Santa Philomena was chosen.

For some time the uncle and Sister Agnes were present at the lessons, at the end of which the young Abb ■ retired with a bow. But very soon Drusilla's uncle said it would be but polite to ask him to accompany them in their drives and walks, and the young fair scholar with the small dimpled hands quite agreed with him. At last the uncle's presence was required in H loTence. He departed, aud earnestly begged Drusilla to be attentive to her lessons, as he intended taking her with him the very next time that he came to Verona, when he would show her the world, which she must make herself fit to shine in. The next day when Abbato Rugg'ero had given his lesson, he bowed politely, and moved towards the door, as though it had not even been necessary to explain why he did not intend sharing her drive, or walk She rose with an offended air, and walked to the broad window without saluting him, when the idea struck her that he could not have meant offence ; delicacy had whispered him to act as he did.

'Abbate,' fbe called iu her sweetest tone, ' come into the garden wilh me. I havo to show you a splendid y«dlow rofe that opeued this morning.' And with ut heeding the expressive look of Sister Agnes, she took his arm, and, walking out npon the marble torrace, descended the steps to the garden,

where she led him to a sheltered laurel walk. In her own outright child manner, tike at once came to the subject uppermost with her i

'Abbate ! Why will you no longer walk or drive with me ? Is it because my uncle has left me alone, and we are both young ?' He c uld not speak the words of excuse he had prepared for the occasion—so much frankness he could not but meet candidly. 'ls it not natural, Madonna?' he asked in return. * I did not think that my society could be welcome to you. I suppose you do not care to go out with S sttr Agnes alone ?' ' I do not mean to walk or drive with Sister Agnes at all. I have ordered the pony basket, and I intend driving you to my little villa on tbe border of the Adige, which is being prepared to r ceive me. I intend spending some summer months there. I hear the horses' hoofs on the gravel. Will you come ?'

How could he do otherwise?' Before Sister Agnes had reached a window, they both flew off at the quickest pace the ponies could muster, with nothing but a diminitive groom behind him. Ruggiero, with his twenty-three years, and his heart full of blighted hopes and ideals, thought he he had never seen so beautiful a creature as this girl-widow at hi a side. For the first time in all his life he blessed his dress, which alone made it possible that he could enjoy her company as he did now. The cloud which always overshadowed his young forehead dispersed. He asked Drusilla for the reins, and the way in which he encouraged the pouies to still greater speed, had bright enjoyment in it. Be showed the girl at his side beauties in nature she had not seen before —c 'mbinations of light and shade that had escaped ber -he smiled nodded, and at last he laughed outright. Drusill* had never heard him laugh before, and thought him a hundred times handsomer, and more pleasant and congenial, than anyone she had ever seen. At last they reached the villa on the Adige. They were welcomed by an old servant, who, for a life's service faithfully given, had received as a reward the post of honour of taking care of Drusilla's gem of a countryhouse on the river. Prusilla cut short his bows and expressions of joy at her arrival, by telling him to have a repast ready in two hours' time She answe-ed his blank look by telling him to remove the cushions from the seat of the pny chaise. Everything necessary that could not be had at the villa, at this time of the year, was etored up there. Drusilla threw a triumphant look at the Abbatte, who wondered at her forelight. ' J intend spending a delightful day in the country,' she said, taking the Abbate's arm again. ' Far from the dismal city and the more dismal palace, and the most dismal of all sisters—Agnes !' The two roamed about the garden, where everything was blossoming as though eager to get ready by the time the young mistress arrived. She showed him her favourite view ; the arbour in which she had played when a child ; the bench on which the young girl had sat reading her first novel—" Paul and Virginia."

As they stood on the terrace overhanging the river, "Shall we not spend a happy time here!' she exclaimed, with a sit;h.

His voice was Bad as he answered, ' We ? Do you think it possible that I should ever come out here to see you?' She turned upon him quickly, a bright light In her eye. ( To h/< nontinufid.)