"It is ill!" she said, pointing to the bird, which sat with its feathers stiff and erect, mute and heedless even of that voice which was as musical as its own.
"Poor prisoner!" said Brandon; "even gilt cages and sweet tones cannot compensate to thee for the loss of the air and the wild woods!" "But," said Lucy, anxiously, "it is not confinement which makes it ill! If you think so, I will release it instantly." "How long have you had it ?" asked Brandon.
"For three years!" said Lucy.

"And is it your chief favourite ?" "Yes; it does not sing so prettily as the other, but it is far more sensible, and so affectionate!" "Can you release it then ?" asked Brandon, smiling.

"Would it not be better to see it die in your custody than to let it live and to see it no more ?" "Oh, no, no!" said Lucy, eagerly; "when I love any one, anything, I wish that to be happy, not me!" As she said this, she took the bird from the cage; and bearing it to the open window, kissed it, and held it on her hand in the air.

The poor bird turned a languid and sickly eye around it, as if the sight of the crowded houses and busy streets presented nothing familiar or inviting; and it was not till Lucy with a tender courage shook it gently from her, that it availed itself of the proffered liberty.

It flew first to an opposite balcony; and then recovering from a short and as it were surprised pause, took a brief circuit above the houses; and after disappearing for a few minutes, flew back, circled the window, and re-entering, settled once more on the fair form of its mistress and nestled into her bosom.
Lucy covered it with kisses.