There are many besides me who remember her.' 'Yes--' said St.Aubert, 'and I am one of those.' 'Alas, sir! you remember, then, a most beautiful and excellent lady.

She deserved a better fate.' Tears stood in St.Aubert's eyes; 'Enough,' said he, in a voice almost stifled by the violence of his emotions,--'it is enough, my friend.' Emily, though extremely surprised by her father's manner, forbore to express her feelings by any question.

La Voisin began to apologize, but St.Aubert interrupted him; 'Apology is quite unnecessary,' said he, 'let us change the topic.

You was speaking of the music we just now heard.' 'I was, monsieur--but hark!--it comes again; listen to that voice!' They were all silent; At last a soft and solemn-breathing sound Rose, like a stream of rich distilled perfumes, And stole upon the air, that even Silence Was took ere she was 'ware, and wished she might Deny her nature, and be never more Still, to be so displaced.* *Milton.
In a few moments the voice died into air, and the instrument, which had been heard before, sounded in low symphony.

St.Aubert now observed, that it produced a tone much more full and melodious than that of a guitar, and still more melancholy and soft than the lute.