self-appointed task-work of maturer years; less confident indeed of your approval, but not less confident of your love; and anxious only to realize your presence between myself and the public, and to mingle with those severer voices to whose final sentence I submit my work the beloved and gracious accents of your own.

OWEN MEREDITH.

LUCIL E

PART I.

CANTO I.

I.

Letter from the COMTESSE DE NEVERS to LORD ALFRED

VARGRAVE.

'I HEAR from Bigorre you are there.
I am told
'You are going to marry Miss Darcy. Of old,

'So long since you may have forgotten it now,

'(When we parted as friends, soon mere strangers to grow,) 'Your last words recorded a pledge-what you will

'A promise-the time is now come to fulfil.

'The letters I ask you, my lord, to return,

'I desire to receive from your hand. You discern 'My reasons, which, therefore, I need not explain. 'The distance to Serchon is short. I remain

'A month in these mountains. Miss Darcy, perchance, 'Will forego one brief page from the summer romance 'Of her courtship, and spare you one day from your place 'At her feet, in the light of her fair English face. 'I desire nothing more, and I trust you will feel 'I desire nothing much.

'Your friend always,

'LUCILE.'