Signor Latrezzi shut himself from society for many months almost broken-hearted, now fully realizing the error of his conduct in relation to Florinda and Petro.  The generous act of the former in absolving him from the responsibility he had incurred in relation to her estate, had done much to awaken his better feelings.  Petro he had loved with the affection of a father, and he now keenly mourned his untimely end.  People saw the great change in Signor Latrezzi, for he no longer sought to oppress any one, but in his few public dealings he was strictly honorable and true.

He had indeed thoroughly reformed; he no longer sought to interfere in the plans of his niece, who was left to follow her own wishes.  Out of respect for her own feelings, and those of her uncle-whom Florinda had now begun to respect, seeing a complete change in him that showed an honest and honorable purpose-her proposed marriage was deferred for some weeks, when at length, under the sanction of the Grand Duke, Florinda and Carlton were united to each other, and found happiness in the love and constancy of their own true hearts.  Thus happily ended the high thoughts and bright dreams of the humble painter.

In one of the lovely palaces whose lofty walls of white bask in the warm sun of the Val d’Arno, lives the last surviving branch of the noble house of Carrati in the person of the peerless Signora Florinda.  Joyful and happy in domestic felicity, there, too, is Carlton, the American artist, surrounded by everything that wealth can procure, or refined taste suggest, and master of the unbounded estates of Carrati, but above all, happy in Florinda’s love.

The end.

[From “The flag of our union.”]

The Prima Donna.

By M. V. St. Leon.

“What is to be done?” exclaimed the manager of the principal theatre in Havana.  “What is to be done?” and he paced the room in angry despair.  “This is the second time within a week that Signora Buonatti has been too ill to sing-and to-night every seat is engaged, the house will be full to overflowing.  The audience scarce endured the first disappointment, and how will they receive the second?  O, for some expedient.  I must hunt the whole city through till I find some one to supply her place decently!” and seizing his hat, Diego Cartillos rushed into the street, and was out of sight in a few minutes.

“Alfin brillar, nell i rede,” sang a voice of surpassing sweetness, which came from round a corner.  Cartillos stopped an instant in silent ecstacy, and then hurriedly advanced in the direction of the sound.  In front of a handsome house stood a young girl apparently near sixteen years of age, in poor but clean garments, and holding a mandoline in her hand with which she was playing an accompaniment to the words she was singing.  The manager stood listening to it attentively,