It so happened that, about a month previous to the date on which our story has now entered, a paralytic affection had disabled Bernardi from the duties of his calling.

He had been always a social, harmless, improvident, generous fellow--living on his gains from day to day, as if the day of sickness and old age never was to arrive.

Though he received a small allowance for his past services, it ill sufficed for his wants,; neither was he free from debt.

Poverty stood at his hearth,--when Viola's grateful smile and liberal hand came to chase the grim fiend away.

But it is not enough to a heart truly kind to send and give; more charitable is it to visit and console.