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"Do not leave us now!" whispered Miriam, implor"One moment

ingly, and laying her hand on his arm. more! Ah; he has no word for me!" "Miriam!" said Donatello.

Though but a single word, and the first that he had spoken, its tone was a warrant of the sad and tender depth from which it came. It told Miriam things of infinite importance, and, first of all, that he still loved her. The sense of their mutual crime had stunned, but not destroyed the vitality of his affection; it was therefore indestructible. That tone, too, bespoke an altered and deepened character; it told of a vivified intellect, and of spiritual instruction that had come through sorrow and remorse; so that instead of the wild boy, the thing of sportive, animal nature, the sylvan Faun, here was now the man of feeling and intelligence.

She turned towards him, while his voice still reverberated in the depths of her soul.

"You have called me!" said she.

"Because my deepest heart has need of you!" he replied. "Forgive, Miriam, the coldness, the hardness with which I parted from you! I was bewildered with strange horror and gloom."

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Alas! and it was I that brought it on you," you," said she. "What repentance, what self-sacrifice, can atone for that infinite wrong? There was something so sacred in the innocent and joyous life which you were leading! A happy person is such an unaccustomed and holy creature, in this sad world! And, encountering so rare a being, and gifted with the power of sympathy with his sunny life, it was my doom, mine, to bring him within the limits of sinful, sorrowful mortality! Bid me depart, Donatello! Fling me off! No good, through my agency, can follow upon such a mighty evil!"

riam," said he, "our lot lies together. Is it not Tell me, in Heaven's name, if it be otherwise." atello's conscience was evidently perplexed with whether the communion of a crime, such as they re jointly stained with, ought not to stifle all the Live motions of their hearts, impelling them one s the other. Miriam, on the other hand, remorseestioned with herself, whether the misery, already g from her influence, should not warn her to withom his path. In this momentous interview, thereo souls were groping for each other in the darkguilt and sorrow, and hardly were bold enough the cold hands that they found.

sculptor stood watching the scene with earnest hy. seems irreverent," said he, at length; "intrusive, irreverent, for a third person to thrust himself

the two solely concerned in a crisis like the . Yet, possibly as a by-stander, though a deeply ed one, I may discern somewhat of truth that is from you both; nay, at least interpret or suggest deas which you might not so readily convey to her."

eak!" said Miriam ; we confide in you." eak!" said Donatello. "You are true and up

vell know," rejoined Kenyon, "that I shall not - in uttering the few, deep words which, in this as in all others, include the absolute truth. But, Tiriam, is one whom a terrible misfortune has to educate; it has taken him, and through your out of a wild and happy state, which, within cirbed limits, gave him joys that he cannot elsefind on earth. On his behalf, you have incurred a responsibility which you cannot fling aside. And here, Donatello, is one whom Providence marks out as intimately connected with your destiny. The mysterious process, by which our earthly life instructs us for another state of being, was begun for you by her. She has rich gifts of heart and mind, a suggestive power, a magnetic influence, a sympathetic knowledge, which, wisely and religiously exercised, are what your condition needs. She possesses what you require, and, with utter self-devotion, will use it for your good. The bond betwixt you, therefore, is a true one, and never - except by Heaven's own act should be rent asunder."

"Ah; he has spoken the truth!" cried Donatello, grasping Miriam's hand.

"The very truth, dear friend," cried Miriam.

"take heed;

"But take heed," resumed the sculptor, anxious not to violate the integrity of his own conscience, for you love one another, and yet your bond is twined with such black threads, that you must never look upon it as identical with the ties that unite other loving souls. It is for mutual support; it is for one another's final good; it is for effort, for sacrifice, but not for earthly happiness. If such be your motive, believe me, friends, it were better to relinquish each other's hands at this sad moment. There would be no holy sanction on your wedded life." "None," said Donatello, shuddering. "We know it well."

"None," repeated Miriam, also shuddering. "United - miserably entangled with me, rather by a bond of guilt, our union might be for eternity, indeed, and most intimate; but, through all that endless duration, I should be conscious of his horror."

"Not for earthly bliss, therefore," said Kenyon, "but for mutual elevation, and encouragement towards a severe

d painful life, you take each other's hands. And if, t of toil, sacrifice, prayer, penitence, and earnest effort wards right things, there comes, at length, a sombre d thoughtful happiness, taste it, and thank Heaven! that you live not for it, so that it be a wayside flower, ringing along a path that leads to higher ends, it will Heaven's gracious gift, and a token that it recognizes Dur union here below."

"Have you no more to say?" asked Miriam, earnestly. There is matter of sorrow and lofty consolation strangely ingled in your words."

"Only this, dear Miriam," said the sculptor; "if ever your lives, the highest duty should require from either you the sacrifice of the other, meet the occasion withit shrinking. This is all."

While Kenyon spoke, Donatello had evidently taken in e ideas which he propounded, and had ennobled them

the sincerity of his reception. His aspect unconeiously assumed a dignity, which, elevating his former eauty, accorded with the change that had long been king place in his interior self. He was a man, revolvg grave and deep thoughts in his breast. He still held Tiriam's hand; and there they stood, the beautiful man, ne beautiful woman, united forever, as they felt, in the resence of these thousand eye-witnesses, who gazed so uriously at the unintelligible scene. Doubtless, the rowd recognized them as lovers, and fancied this a berothal that was destined to result in life-long happiness. nd, possibly, it might be so. Who can tell where hapiness may come; or where, though an expected guest, it may never show its face? Perhaps - shy, subtle thing - it had crept into this sad marriage-bond, when the -artners would have trembled at its presence as a crime. "Farewell!" said Kenyon, "I go to Rome."

"Farewell, true friend!" said Miriam. "Farewell!" said Donatello too. "May you be happy. You have no guilt to make you shrink from happiness." At this moment it so chanced that all the three friends by one impulse glanced upward at the statue of Pope Julius; and there was the majestic figure stretching out the hand of benediction over them, and bending down upon this guilty and repentant pair its visage of grand benignity. There is a singular effect oftentimes when, out of the midst of engrossing thought and deep absorption, we suddenly look up, and catch a glimpse of external objects. We seem at such moments to look farther and deeper into them, than by any premeditated observation; it is as if they met our eyes alive, and with all their hidden meaning on the surface, but grew again inanimate and inscrutable the instant that they became aware of our glances. So now at that unexpected glimpse, Miriam, Donatello, and the sculptor, all three imagined that they beheld the bronze pontiff endowed with spiritual life. A blessing was felt descending upon them from his outstretched hand; he approved by look and gesture the pledge of a deep union that had passed under his auspices.

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