Hark! a soft, breezy sound steals up just beneath my window.

It is the vibration of the guitar,--a deeptoned, melodious voice accompanies it.

It is the voice of St.James.He sings, and the strains fall upon the stilly night, soft as the silver dew.
"Gabriella, I told you with my dying lips never to unseal this manuscript till you were awakened to woman's destiny,--_love_.

If you do not sympathize with my emotions, lay it down, my child, the hour is not yet come.

If you have never heard a voice, whose faintest tones sink into the lowest depths of your soul,--if you have never met a glance, whose lightning rays penetrate to the innermost recesses of the heart, reseal these pages.