THE THREE SISTERS.

A ROMANCE OF REAL LIFE.

I was at Berne on a very particular occasion- —a very particular one indeed, so that I cannot help remembering it. What object other than most travellers in Switzerland have, do you suppose led me there? To see the view from the terrace? No! To save you the trouble of any more guesses, I will at once come to the point, and say, that I went to the capital of the Canton to-be married. As the car drew up to the door of the minister-I do not mean the divine,-I found before it a vast crowd of the citizens, who, with shouts and hisses, were dragging along two persons, both young, and one very handsome-a boy and girl, I might almost call them; I tell you no fiction,-to be yoked together, whether they would or not. Your astonishment will be still greater when you hear that they were our compatriots. There is something about English people that cannot be mistaken; it is not the costume, though that is something, but they are a finer race, an improved stock, improved as all the animal world has been with us, either by climate, or crossing the breed. Ask the foreigners what they think of our women; they, at least, are impartial judges. A Florentine of

my acquaintance, on his return from England to his native city, was asked his opinion of them as compared with his own countrywomen, and he answered, "The same difference as exists between a lady and a paysanne, hot-house grapes and our coarsest rough ones." He was a man of taste.

The delicate young girl who, with downcast eyes and blushing cheek, was pressed along by the crowd, seemed a living exemplification of the Florentine's remark. Don't be afraid that I am going to describe her; nothing is more difficult to define than beauty-it must be felt. It certainly set my imagination at work,-that is to say, I wondered what this strange scene could mean. We were shown into a room, till the ceremony-the wedding-was concluded; and then came our turn. After the conclusion of that formidable affair, I was not a little curious to be informed in what all this popular clamor I had witnessed had originated, and the representative of our sovereign told me the following story; a romance of real life.

"About three months since," said the minister, "there came to settle at this capital, three sisters, orphans. I had often observed them in my walks, and, on inquiry, learnt that they were, or passed for, the natural daughters of one of our royal dukes. So beautiful were they, and yet all differing in beauty, that they might almost have sat to Canova for the Graces. Like his, though he has somewhat violated the mythology of the Greeks and classical authority by modelling them of unequal heights, these sisters three were so unlike in stature and physiognomy, that no one could have guessed their relationship.

"Adelaide was by several years the eldest. Her figure, tall and commanding, and of perfect symmetry, exemplified the expression of Virgil, Incedit Regina. There was a pride, a haughtiness, in her look, in her step, in her every gesture, that bespoke her origin; a sense, too, of superiority of intellect, if not of beauty, that raised her above the crowd. She was a brunette, and the paleness of her

cheek and clearness of her complexion reminded me of an Italian : these she inherited, I have understood, from her mother, who was of that nation. Her dark hair, which hung in long ringlets down to her shoulder, set off to advantage her eyes, that through their long lashes darted glances of fire. To my taste, she was, however, rather made to admire than love, and I should doubt whether so tender a passion had ever entered her bosom.-Not so her sisters. The second, Eugenia, was half a head shorter than Adelaide: it was the lovely creature who had just excited your curiosity and interest. You will have perceived that she is not unlike the pictures of the Princess Charlotte, as I remember to have seen her, a year before her marriage; the same regularity of features and cast of countenance, the same fullness of the eye even to the color, was observable in both. You might have remarked, as she walked, her hands and feet, which were mignonne to a degree. The third was still less than the other two; she was what the Tuscans call piccinina, a diminutive that expresses endearment. She seemed made to be tutoye'd

"They came to Berne without any introduction; and it was interesting to see three girls, the eldest not twenty-three, entirely without protection in a foreign land. I was not the only one of our countrymen, as you shall hear, who observed and admired them.

"Among their adorers was one almost a boy, and neither remark. able for his appearance, his family, or his acquirements. His name— but no matter, perhaps it would be as well to omit it. For some days he was their shadow; he crossed their path, he haunted them in their walks, he placed himself at the corner of the street, and watched, by the hour, the windows of their apartments, in the hope of getting a glimpse of Eugenia, the lady of his love, or rather passion.

"We know what girls of eighteen are who have not seen much of the world or of mankind, especially such as have never had an attachment. How natural it is for one who thinks herself loved, to love in return! and how soon at that age does she learn to read through the glance of the eye, the heart!-I shall say nothing of sym. pathy. Mine is a plain unvarnished narrative, though it is some. what a new version of the Nouvelle Héloïse,-I speak of the first volume, and perhaps the hero of this tale had read that dangerous work-perhaps his letters were copies of those thoughts that glow and words that burn;' at all events, he profited by St. Preux's lessons. And she-poor Julia!-But I have not the materials for tracing the progress of his acquaintance with this lovely and innocent girl, or by what course of seduction he practised on her young imagination.

"There is something in the air of Switzerland, in the primitive manners of its people, in the freedom of intercourse among its inhabitants, that places society on an easier footing there, than in any other part of the Continent. In traversing that country, in meeting at the same inns, in crossing the same mountain passes, travellers soon become, if not intimate, at least well acquainted, and shake off the morgue and hauteur which is peculiar to us islanders. In the course of the summer, the three Graces made an excursion to Interlaken, and of course our inamorato, like a Nymphalept, followed their steps. At Thun they embarked in the same boat, and on reaching Unterseen went to the same pension.

"What a delicious green valley is that which lies between the two lakes, (with the bright blue Aar running through it and connecting them,)-its magnificent walnut-trees, and cottages that so well har. monize with that scene of surpassing beauty! And then the Ranz des Vaches, those wild and natural airs so admirably sung, so effective when harmonized to the clear and silver voices of the peasant-girls in their picturesque costumes, to complete the enchantment. If any spot on earth could awaken in young hearts the sacred flame of love, it would be there :-sacred I call it, for it gives birth to the best, and noblest, and most religious feelings in virtuous minds. Alas! such was not that of the young man of whom I speak.

"In the character of Adelaide, mingled none of the tenderer feelings that might have endeared her to her sisters. She was insensible to all the weakness of her sex, and begat none of that confidence or openness of heart that might have made her a fit guardian, and friend, and protectress of her sisters. They rather feared and admired, than loved her; there was none of the tenderness of affection in their intercourse, and having brought them up from children, she continued to treat them as such, though they were grown into womanhood.

"It was this coldness and reserve that proved so fatal to both.

"Proud in her own virtue, she not even for a moment harbored a thought that that of her sisters could be endangered, and was blind to those attentions which the facility of being under the same roof, of meeting at the same table, and joining in the same walks, enabled the cold and calculating seducer to pay to Eugenia.

"They extended their tour to Lauterbrunnen, and crossed together the Wengern Alp. What opportunities for carrying his nefarious. scheme into effect!

"It is scarcely more than a week or ten days since the party returned from their excursion.

"Adelaide had very soon sounded the depth, or rather shallow. ness, of this young man's understanding. She found him empty and vain, and, to her mind, in every way unprepossessing, and was little aware that her sister's young affections were deeply and irrevocably engaged. Perhaps he wore a mask before her, and was constantly on his guard not to betray his feelings. Such duplicity in one so young may astonish, but he was quite capable of practising these arts. Even had he expressed his admiration of Eugenia without disguise, instead of encouraging his addresses, she would have spurned them, and thought it the extreme of arrogance in him to have aspired to an alliance with her family. It was only, therefore, by stealth that the lovers met; for Adelaide never admitted him into her house, and greeted him with cold formality; yet meet they did. It was in one of these stolen interviews that he painted, doubtless in the most glowing colors, the delights of mutual affection in some Alpine solitude, where, the world forgetting and forgot' they could love and live for each other; a vision so fascinating, so apt to act like a spell upon a young, a trusting, and unsophisticated heart. Perhaps she never rendered it necessary for him to dilate on the futility of those ties that the world recognises; she knew her sister's sentiments too well to venture on confiding to her the secret that hed long been the companion of her bosom,-she feared to lose for ever the object of her tenderest regard; and in an evi! hour.

thoughtless of the consequences, blinded by passion, and thinking no sacrifice too great to show the excess of her devotion, she threw herself into his arms, and confided her destiny to his care.

"Leaving the unfortunate girl and her guilty paramour to pursue their journey to Lausanne, I now arrive at a more serious act of this drama.

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I have given you some idea of the character of Adelaide, but the darker side is yet undepicted.

"Morning brought with it the revelation of the fugitive's elopement; the unslept-in bed-the vacant chamber-the half-unclosed door, through which, with steps that left no echo, she had fled at the hour of midnight. The recollection, now too late, of many circum. stances, slight in themselves, yet which, put together, became conclusive evidence,-but, above all, letters which, in her haste and preoccupation of mind, Eugenia had left behind,-were convictions 'clear as Holy Writ' of a sister's ruin, and her own disgrace and shame.

"The last scene of the tragedy is now to come. And here we find it difficult to reconcile the firmness of Adelaide's first resolve, with the weakness that she exhibited in its execution.

"It is melancholy to reflect that she had no friend whom she could consult, and her pride revolted against betraying to a stranger the event that had taken place. The idea of bringing the offender to justice never occurred to her mind: the irrevocable deed was done, the stain upon her honor could not be wiped out, her sister's wrongs admitted of no reparation;—a consciousness, too, that part of the blame recoiled on herself, that she had neglected those precautions which, as a guardian and protectress, she ought to have adopted; and, perhaps, a feeling that she had alienated and estranged Eugenia's affections-that her coldness and reserve had prevented that épanchement de cœur, which, through the medium of the affections, might have prevented the fatal occurrence; all these considerations tortured her soul to frenzy. She had no religion to call to her aid; and on the evening of that day of agony, she resolved on-self-destruction. But that resolve, however criminal in itself, was rendered doubly so. Horrible to say, by her persuading, or rather commanding, for every word of hers was a command, her sister Agnes, the most perfect angel ever shrined in a human form, so innocent, so young, so full of the enjoyment of life, so capable of bestowing happiness on others, was wrought upon to involve herself in the same fate! No stronger proof can be wanting to show the power this cold and selfish woman had acquired, than the acquiescence of this amiable child in that most cruel resolution. Who can tell by what threats, if entreaties failed, by what arguments, by what sophisms, she overcame that natural reluctance the little creature must have felt to part with her dear anxious being,'-to quit a world just opening to her with all its delights? The mind sickens at the thought of the horror with which she must have contemplated the grave; and her fortitude, too,--such fortitude, and such gentleness! The sublimity of human nature could go no further.

"The dreadful hour fixed for the perpetration of this deed without name had arrived, Hand in hand, these sisters-sisters but in name, were seen to tread the path that led to the Aar. The river, blue as that of the Rhone at Geneva, rushes with great impetuosity in a continuation of falls for some miles below the town; so clear is it,

that its treacherous depth reveals every pebble, and makes it appear shallow to an unaccustomed eye. The spot to which this infatuated woman conducted Agnes was fringed with alders, under whose shade, for it was their almost daily walk, they had often sat and sketched. Among their other accomplishments, in this they particularly excelled.

"No eye but one and His above, witnessed the dreadful act I am about to relate: that one was Adelaide's.

"It is impossible to know whether the child on whose untimely fate many a tear has been shed-and I have myself wept like a childvoluntarily threw herself into the torrent, or whether, as some suppose, she was pushed off the bank; but it is an extraordinary circumstance, and may well excite doubt and suspicion, that she who coun. selled the crime should not have set the example, or, at least, plunged with her sister into the stream. Certain, however, it is, that after she had seen Agnes sink to rise no more, whether the sight of her struggles with the merciless element, or the sound of her screams which brought a peasant to the spot, unnerved her mind, or the dread of death, on the eve of rushing into its arms, overcame her resolution, she was found by the paysan, staring with a stupid and vacant insensibility on the gulf. In this state she was led to her house, and a few hours after, the lifeles corpse of her unhappy victim was consigned to its last home.

"What must the pangs of death in all its bitterness be, compared to the torments of the soul this fiend in human shape must be enduring!

"The fury of the populace was so great, that it was unsafe for her to remain in Berne; and, after her sister's funeral, she set out for Rome, where, being a Catholic, it is her intention to enter into one of the strictest convents and to take the veil. Let us hope that, by true penitence and deep contrition for her sin, she may make her peace with God!"

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'But," said I after a pause, and when I had somewhat recovered from the emotion which this tragic story excited, we are not yet arrived at the cause of all the disturbance that delayed my marriage. It is a melancholy story to tell on such an occasion, and may well throw a cloud over the day: I cannot help considering it a bad omen of my own future happiness."

"I am no believer in presentiments," remarked the minister. "As to the tale, I have little to add. After an absence of a very few days, the heartless villain who was the cause of this domestic tragedy brought back his bride, meaning to have returned her to her sistersto have abandoned her to her shame. He had rifled the flower of its sweets, and then would have cast it like a worthless weed away. But his arrival in the town was no sooner known, than the good people of the place immediately surrounded the hotel, and dragged him through the streets to the Embassy; when a dread to meet the face of the virtuous inhabitants of Berne, without doing justice to Eugenia, a sense of shame, and my just reproaches and recommendation, caused him with an ill grace to lead her to the altar."