He had done all that was possible for the welfare of the woman who had first inspired him with love; but O, what would he not have given for such an opportunity as Fitzgerald had! He was obliged to confess to himself that the utter annihilation of his hope was more bitter than he had supposed it would be.

He no longer doubted that he would have married her if he could, in full view of all her antecedents, and even with his mother's prejudices to encounter.

He could not, however, help smiling at himself, as he thought: "Yet how very different she was from what I had previously resolved to choose! How wisely I have talked to young men about preferring character to beauty! And lo! I found myself magnetized at first sight by mere beauty!" But manly pride rebelled against the imputation of such weakness.

"No, it was not mere outward beauty," he said to himself.

"True, I had no opportunity of becoming acquainted with the qualities of her soul, but her countenance unmistakably expressed sweetness, modesty, and dignity, and the inflexions of her voice were a sure guaranty for refinement." With visions of past and future revolving round him, he fell asleep and dreamed he saw Rosabella alone on a plank, sinking in a tempestuous sea.