The night before their departure Eugenio wrote an ode addressed to me, and placed it in my hands.  I did not then read it through:  I felt too dispirited and preoccupied.  The next morning his eyes met mine with a questioning expression that I did not comprehend.  When the hour for parting had arrived tears and broken exclamations were mingled.  Eugenio lingered to kiss me, with a look first of inquiry, then of deep despair.  I found afterward that the poem he had presented to me contained a protestation of humble and devoted love, which he entreated me not to neglect with scorn, and thereby add to the cruelties of his situation.

What a sense of loneliness we experienced!  I felt restless and unhappy:  I was pursued by the imploring face of Eugenio and haunted by the eyes of Celestino.  It was long ere our household recovered its old equilibrium.  Letters full of gratitude came from the Morteras.  They were re-established in their old home; Eugenio had resumed his studies; Virginia was not so well; Celestino was dying.  Soon after I received a letter in Eugenio’s handwriting informing me that the trinket he enclosed would be to me an evidence that his beloved brother Celestino was dead.  He had died with a smile on his lips, and Eugenio with his own hands had unfastened the jewel from his neck.  In a letter written some time after to my mother Eugenio implored her by all she loved to rescue him from a position which he felt to be daily more unendurable, by procuring for him some engagement, in however humble a capacity, that would enable him to support himself and assist his family.  A priest he could not, would not be.  My parents had scarcely time to discuss the matter ere another letter came from Eugenio, telling them that his mother had discovered the subject of his correspondence, and that she and their good old priest had succeeded in convincing him of his wickedness in attempting to relinquish the holy vocation of priest—­that it had been a snare of the devil; and he implored Signor and Madama Melville to forgive him for the scandal he had caused concerning his holy religion by such unworthy backslidings, which he now deeply repented.

One day Oswald came in exclaiming, “Aunt, who do you think has failed and left the country?”

“Who?”

“Why, your friend, Eugenio Noele!  As I passed the house I saw men carrying away the pictures and things.  I could not help stopping to inquire into the matter.  One of the workmen, who seemed to know a great deal about it, said that a confidential clerk was at the bottom of it all, and had run off before the great smash came.”

The last news we heard of this singular family was that Rugiero, who had gone to Italy with his family, was retrieving his position, that Giuseppe was with him, and that Eugenio was a priest, and beloved by all for his noble qualities and extended usefulness.

     CLELIA LEGA WEEKS.

THE MATCHLESS ONE:  A TALE OF AMERICAN SOCIETY, IN FOUR CHAPTERS.