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Then may this dangerous treasure deal Those blessings virtuous mortals feel, And favour'd Adrian haply prove Deserving of esteem and love.

Charming fairy, he exclaimed, mistrust me not; I value this precious gift too highly ever to abuse it; so saying he ran off to find Amaranth?, whom he met coming as hastily from her apartment with the hyacinth in her hand. Look, look, shouted Adrian, here is my darling rose;--and see, answered his sister, I have got my sweet hyacinth, but with it I found this paper, containing some mighty crabbed, dismal words, that I could very well have dispensed with. "Aye, my gift was accompanied with a sort of a lecture too. It is very strange that so powerful a fairy should not be able to discern my good intentions, without my making so many protestations of them,--but what says your paper?" and unfolding it read as follows:

Beauty, that peerless gem whose magic smile Can teach the frigid heart with warmth to glow, Or smooth the frowning Cynic's sullen brow, And the cold glance of cautious age beguile;

Still decks the nymph who wears her potent spell With sparkling eye, and gaily dimpled cheek That sportive ease and conscious pow'r bespeak, Nor dreads that time her cherish'd pride may quell.

While flatt'ring crowds proclaim unrivall'd sway With haughty triumph glows her radiant bloom, But soon the bright illusion fades away And yields to vanity's unwelcome doom. So, Amaranth?, may this flower decay And blighted beauty seek the shelt'ring tomb.

They then proceeded together to the apartment of Claribel, whom they found in a sweet slumber, from which their exclamations soon aroused her. "Look at this stupid girl," cried Amaranth?, "if she be not sleeping as soundly and unconcernedly as if she had never heard of the wonderful events this morning was to produce." "And yet," said Adrian, "I dare to say the fairy has not forgotten her," and casting his eyes round soon espied the lily. "Aye, there is the favourite flower, and I hope accompanied by some sage admonitions as well as ours."--Then advancing towards it, "Sure enough, here is the attendant scroll," and opening it immediately, read aloud:

When mild contentment rules the breast Unchecked the pleasure, sweet the rest, The passing hours that close; No fruitless wish disturbs the maid, No blasted hopes her peace invade Who courts the calm repose.

The placid smile, the brow serene, Unstudied glance, unruffled mien, Glad approbation gain; From rankling spleen, and envy free, The venomed pang of jealousy Essays to wound in vain.

Fair as the lily's polished hue Impending fate shall meet her view Who shuns ambition's lure; And thus shall gentle Claribel In tranquil ease serenely dwell From vain regrets secure.

Well, the fairy promises you fair at least, cousin, said he, and your lily smells very sweet, and I hope we shall all be very happy together with our separate gifts!

Fairies had such dexterous, ingenious methods of bringing to pass, whatever they projected, that it is not necessary to inquire by what means Adrian soon found himself master of wealth to the utmost extent of his wishes, or that the plain features and awkward person of Amaranth? were changed into the most dazzling beauty of countenance, and perfect symmetry of form. In Claribel the effects of the fairy's power were the least visible. Her nature had always been so placid, that it could admit of no great increase of contentment, but she was perfectly at peace with herself and others, and free from any portion of envy at the riches of one cousin, or the beauty of the other.

The news was soon circulated through the surrounding country that the old melancholy castle was now become the scene of affluence and hospitality. In consequence it was not long before visitors and petitioners poured in from every quarter. The now superbly furnished mansion, and magnificent establishment of Adrian, did not prove more attractive than the charms of his sister, which excited the wonder and admiration of all beholders. The native modesty of a young person bred up in seclusion, for some time prevailed over every other sensation, and she almost repented of the gift she had solicited. She shrunk abashed from the perpetual and ardent gaze of all who approached her, and the admiration she had thought so desirable, was at first oppressive and painful to her. Pure and genuine feelings of uncorrupted nature, why are ye ever subdued? what art or ornament can ever replace the fascinating blush that mantles on the cheek of innocence!

Adrian found himself at the summit of his wishes. His dwelling was thronged with joyous spirits like himself, who courted and flattered him, always extolling in exaggerated terms his generosity and powers of pleasing. Invitations came from far and near, and neighbouring families vied with each other in giving costly entertainments to this charming brother and sister, nor was Claribel ever left out of the party. Adrian forgot not the injunctions of his patroness. He gave orders that no object of charity should ever be turned without relief from the castle, but absorbed in the pursuit of pleasure, he gave himself no leisure to learn the nature of their wants, or to ascertain that that they were in fact objects of charity.

Amongst other sources of festivity, games were instituted in which the skill and activity of the rival youths were exerted, and on such occasions the prize adjudged to the victor, was generally laid as a trophy at the feet of the beautiful Amaranth?. This indeed was a trial to poor mortal vanity. She soon grew so accustomed to the distinction paid to her charms, that instead of oppresive it became necessary to her. The brother and sister who fondly loved each other, who from their infancy had shared all their little joys, and little griefs together, were mutually delighted at the praises the other received. Amaranth? loved to hear of the excellent qualities of the heart, and liberal temper and vivacity of her brother, and Adrian's heart bounded with joy and swelled with pride at the homage paid to the beauty of his sister. But too soon these exquisite feelings, derived from the purest source of affection human nature is capable of, were extinguished. Engaged in the pursuit of their separate enjoyments, they ceased to feel an interest in those of each other. Claribel was the quiet spectator of the distinctions of her cousins. She served as a sort of cabinet to Amaranth?, in which she deposited all the little histories of her triumphs, and the flattery that had been amply bestowed upon her; and Claribel would listen to the details with kind complacency, and sometimes an idea would occur to her that the extravagant joy and gratification they appeared to produce in her cousin, must be worth sharing, but the gift of the fairy secured her from any anxious wish to do so.--Though she occasionally obtained notice from those whom she met in the parties in which she mixed, for no one could fail to feel courtesy towards so mild and inoffensive a being, she was aware that she was considered as little more than a cypher by the side of her cousins, but she was not liable to discontent, and repined not at the observation.

Adrian had been too much occupied by his lively companions to think of making inquiries after the objects of his bounty, but a long list was brought him by Gabriel of mendicants, who had been relieved, which amounted to a sum that astonished him. Is it possible, said he, there can be so many unfortunate creatures in want? It is well the fairy has supplied me so liberally, or I might soon come to be in want myself, but I think, he proudly added, she must be satisfied with my manner of employing my wealth. One day a person desired to be admitted to him, who told him a long pitiful story of his being reduced from easy circumstances by a rich and powerful man, who in revenge for some offence he had given him, had contrived his ruin, and driven him with a large helpless family to beggary. The natural good disposition of Adrian was manifested at this recital. He exclaimed, with honest warmth against such shameful cruelty, and gave the man a large sum of money to alleviate his unmerited misfortune. The petitioner was profuse in his acknowledgments, expatiated on the benefit of riches, when entrusted in such hands, and retired invoking a thousand blessings on his benefactor.

Adrian felt all the satisfaction of the most approving self-complacency. Excellent Felicia, he exclaimed aloud, your's is indeed a most precious gift, to be enabled to perform such actions, and merit such gratitude, and I flatter myself you will allow that I have strictly obeyed your injunctions!

The next day Gabriel informed him that he had discovered the person to be a worthless impostor, who had ruined himself by extravagance and profligacy, and in return for Adrian's generosity, had gone about making a jest of his credulity. Adrian uttered the most vehement expressions of resentment and indignation. To find himself only a dupe when he had thought himself a pattern of benevolence, was a sore check upon his self applause, and he formed many prudent resolutions to be more upon his guard in future. Some days after, in passing through his grounds, he was accosted by a man who exhibited an appearance of extreme wretchedness. His face was wan, and his features sunken. His dimmed eye seemed hardly able to discern the object on which it gazed; and his tottering limbs with difficulty supported his feeble frame. His moving lips appeared to be framing a prayer for compassion, but his hollow voice had not power to give it sound. Adrian involuntarily stopped, regarding him with looks of commiseration, but suddenly recollecting himself--No, said he, I will not again be imposed upon; I must not forget that the fairy enjoins discretion as well as charity, and hastily passed on, congratulating himself on this effort of prudence.

It was not long before he learned that the unfortunate being had, in despair of obtaining any relief of his sufferings, sought an obscure shelter, in which he soon terminated his miserable existence.

Adrian's heart smote him severely; he felt that he would have given half his possessions to have recalled the past hours; and the circumstance for a short period dwelt heavily on his mind; but contrition was soon effaced by dissipation.

When this brother and sister, who had suddenly burst in such radiance upon the astonished neighbourhood, had ceased to be novelties, it was not long before they ceased also to excite the interest and good liking that their first appearance had created.

All the rational members of their acquaintance, who had been agreeably struck with Adrian's good humoured vivacity and generous spirit, grew disappointed and displeased at finding they must look for nothing beyond. Uninformed in almost every branch of knowledge, destitute of the acquirements generally possessed by, and absolutely indispensable in a young man at his time of life, and of the rank in which he appeared in it, they discovered that though he could laugh with the joyous, he was incapable of conversing with the serious, and it was chiefly by the idle and ignorant like himself, that his society continued to be sought.

The astonishment that the outward attractions of Amaranth? had produced in all beholders, was soon succeeded by astonishment that she possessed no others. No improved understanding, no cultivated taste, accompanied the charms of person, and it was agreed that she must be looked at, and not listened to. The graces of figure could not compensate for the want of graces of mind, nor a polished skin be deemed a substitute for a polished manner. The gift of the fairy had secured her from awkwardness of gesture, but it could not conceal awkwardness of expression and address.

Still, however, both continued to have followers in abundance. The castle was the constant resort of gay dissipated youths, who, in the good spirits and good cheer of Adrian, enjoyed all they wished or cared for; and who took pains to initiate him in all their vicious courses. He had no real relish for the pleasures of the bottle, but was soon laughed out of his moderation; and rather than be thought wanting in spirit, poor Adrian plunged into excesses for which he had no natural taste, and in which he found little acquired gratification. They thought proper also to find fault with the decorations of the castle, on which Adrian had valued himself, and suggested many useless and expensive alterations. These were immediately ordered, but when the poor tradesmen, who had worked hard to oblige him, made their demands, his choice companions exclaimed in terms of violent wrath against them, assuring him it was extremely insolent in those people to expect payment as soon as their work was done, and that he ought to make them wait his leisure. The fact was, these wicked advisers, who were ignorant of the source from whence his fortune was derived, were afraid, if he paid his debts, he would not have money left to squander upon them. Adrian had not the slightest intention of defrauding any of the persons to whom he was indebted; he felt secure of being able to pay them whenever he chose it, and honestly intended to do so; but too weak in mind to bid defiance to the ridicule of those whom he ought to have despised, he suffered himself to be guided by them. In vain did Gabriel remonstrate; Gabriel had long lost his influence, though his young master's heart was not yet so corrupted as to dismiss the worthy man from his service, which his associates, who called him a tiresome preaching old fellow, would fain have persuaded him to do.

Several gentlemen who wished to pay their addresses to Amaranth?, had applied to Adrian for his interest, and also for information respecting the fortune they were to receive with her. Adrian expressed great indignation at such inquiries being made. He had really, in his heart, formed the most generous intentions towards his sister, but in the enthusiasm with which he first contemplated her beauty, and from the sincere affection he then felt for her, he conceived that she deserved the most disinterested attachment, and refused to make any promise of bestowing a portion upon her.

The first person who paid any serious attention to Amaranth?, was in her opinion, as, generally speaking, I fancy in that of all other young ladies in the same case, the most charming creature in the world. He was followed by a second, and she found him as charming; but when a succession of adorers appeared, she was completely perplexed. Her heart was incapable of making an election, and she began to think it would be very dull to fix upon one, and by that means lose the adulation and flattery of all the others. She therefore received them all alike, and divided her attention and her smiles equally amongst them. Thus the innocent Amaranth?, who was unacquainted with the name of coquetry, soon grew expert in the practice. On her first entrance into society she had formed an intimate acquaintance with Ethelinde, the daughter of a family distinguished for goodness and benevolence, and who lived in a handsome, though not profuse style. Ethelinde had nothing of the dazzling beauty of Amaranth? to boast of, her features were not so perfect, nor her complexion so brilliant, but her countenance was enlightened by intelligence, and her smiles were the smiles of modesty, and sweetness of temper. She was always unstudied and unaffected, and in her person and appearance were combined ease and elegance, with the irresistible charm of the most engaging feminine softness. Her understanding was excellent, and well cultivated, her manners correct, and her heart the seat of virtue and purity. Perfectly free from any meanness of temper, she felt no envy at the beauty of Amaranth?, but was, on the contrary, an unfeigned admirer of it, and eagerly sought her friendship. Amaranth?, who for some time felt gratified and obliged by Ethelinde's early notice, was equally desirous of cultivating her's, but ere many weeks had elapsed, they mutually discovered that they were not companions for each other. Ethelinde grew weary of hearing no other conversation than descriptions of the fine dresses her friend had worn at the different entertainments she had been at, or repetitions of all the nonsense that had been addressed to her there, and Amaranth? thought her deplorably dull and disagreeable, for wanting to talk of any thing else. Ethelinde was both too kind-hearted and too well-bred to appear to shun Amaranth?, and Amaranth?, who felt quite secure of never finding a rival in Ethelinde, continued to call her friend. She began, however, by degrees to suspect that she had been a little mistaken in this satisfactory point. It is true that whenever she appeared in public she was immediately surrounded by all the gentlemen in the room, but she could not avoid observing, that when Ethelinde was there also, many of them would turn to her, and when once engaged in conversation with her, never again quit her side, for that of her friend. This was sufficient ground for her conceiving a rooted dislike to the unassuming and unsuspicious Ethelinde.

An important addition was now made to the society into which Adrian and Amaranth? had been introduced, by the arrival of a young gentleman lately returned from travelling, to take possession of a large estate, and noble mansion annexed to it, in that country. Lionel had every thing that could recommend him to the favour of all to whom he was made known. Handsome and elegant in his person, his mind was stored with information, his taste refined, his conversation instructive and entertaining, and his manners affable and polished. Every father openly courted him as a companion and example to his son, and every mother secretly wished him to become the husband of her daughter.

Lionel was charmed with the brother and sister on his first introduction to them. He liked the frank cordiality of Adrian, and became the professed slave of Amaranth?'s beauty. It required no length of time for penetration like Lionel's to discover his error in regard to Adrian; he found he had mistaken vivacity for genius, and frankness of manner for generosity of heart, when in fact his favourite proved unformed and untaught, indifferent to the opinion of all whom he ought to have valued, and given up to idleness and self-indulgence. Such a companion was quitted without any effort of resolution, but the sister's power over him did not yield so easily. Amaranth?'s vanity had been too much flattered by such a conquest, for her to endeavour to conceal the satisfaction it afforded her, and the enamoured Lionel was willing to attribute the approbation she evinced, to genuine affection. He confessed himself disappointed in her mental qualities, but he laid all that to the want of education, and the blame upon those who brought her up. He delighted in the thought of instructing and cultivating her mind himself, and dwelt with rapture on the prospect of possessing such a creature, formed exactly to his own taste, and according to his own rules of right. The devoted lover indulged himself, in these pleasing expectations during several interviews that he had with his idol, when not interrupted by the presence of any other candidates for her favour; but when he saw her in company with some of her previous adorers, and observed the evident pleasure and complacency with which she listened to them all by turns, nothing could exceed his surprise and indignation. What! had she no more regard for him than for any of these senseless coxcombs? Were the smiles and attention that had so captivated him to be equally shared by them? This was not to be borne. He could have endured her ignorance, even a fool might be tolerated, but an unfeeling coquette never could. From that moment Amaranth?, with all her beauty, was dismissed from his heart for ever.

During his attendance on Amaranth?, Lionel had often remarked with approbation the meek and unaffected demeanor of Claribel. He had never indeed heard her converse much, but he judged that her silence was owing to timidity, and fancied that under so retired a manner, might be concealed solid sense, taste, and judgment. Her person, though not strikingly handsome, was pleasing, and her temper and disposition appeared to be perfectly amiable. He began therefore to pay her very serious attention, but here again poor Lionel had only to lament his mistake. He found Claribel quite as untutored as her cousins, without a spark more desire of improvement. He was not likely to meet with a repulse from so gentle a creature, but the acquiescence with which she received his assiduities seemed more the result of habitual passiveness than of reciprocal attachment. She betrayed no emotion of pleasure at his approach, or of concern at his departure. She listened to his conversation as he hoped with interest, but when describing what he considered as requisite points to insure happiness and respectability, he could perceive no symptoms of regret that their sentiments so little corresponded, nor could his avowed opinions awaken in her any exertion to render herself more acceptable to him. When he had taken sufficient time to study her character, he decided that the inelegant mirth, and ungoverned vanity of Amaranth? were preferable to the dawdling insipidity of Claribel. After this decision Lionel ceased to be a visitor at the castle.

The pride of Amaranth? had never before experienced so severe a wound. Her consequence was lessened in her own eyes, and she felt that it would be so in those of others, by the desertion of such a lover, for she had sense enough to discern the superiority of Lionel over all her other admirers. She could appreciate his worth, but she could not controul her own too long indulged inclinations, and was still too artless to conceal the wrong bias they had taken. The disappointment had a visible effect upon her temper: she grew peevish, and dissatisfied with every thing about her. She resolved to leave no means untried to regain the heart of Lionel, and the suggestion of a rival in his affection made her absolutely outrageous. She had so little considered Claribel in that light, that she had not deigned to notice Lionel's attention to her, which indeed her vanity whispered was merely a feint to pique herself, and to give him an opportunity of still hovering near her. The gift of the fairy, which had operated so much to Claribel's disadvantage in the opinion of her lover, secured her from sharing the keen mortification of her cousin at his loss.

Some time after this had happened, an invitation was sent to the inhabitants of the castle to an entertainment, which was to consist of a trial of skill in archery in the morning, and a ball in the evening. Adrian, who was now wholly devoted to his ill-chosen companions, had made some engagement he liked better with them, and would not go, and Claribel was confined at home by indisposition. Amaranth? looked forward with the most flattering anticipation to this proving the scene of her triumph, and restoring all her power over Lionel, who she knew was to be a principal guest there. She exhausted all her invention in contriving the most becoming dresses for both occasions, and selected every ornament that she thought would add lustre to her beauty. The anxiously expected morning arrived, and Amaranth? set forth in all her glory. She found a large company assembled in the part of the grounds marked out for the archery, where a tent was erected ingeniously fitted up, and a handsome collation prepared in it. The gentlemen who were to engage in the contest were all properly equipped for the purpose. Amongst the most conspicuous was Lionel, who with his bow in his hand and quiver on his shoulder, was compared by some of the company to the god of love. In a group of ladies opposite to her, Amaranth? discerned Ethelinde very simply attired, but looking so elegant, so unaffectedly good humoured, and desirous to please and be pleased, that no one could behold her without being prepossessed in her favour. She accosted Amaranth? with the utmost kindness, who very coldly accepted her proffered hand, for she felt an inward acknowledgment of superiority that fretted her beyond endurance. Nor could she at all account for it, having settled in her own mind, quite to her satisfaction, that she had never seen any thing half so ugly or so ill dressed.

The game began, and after each candidate for victory had exerted his strength and skill, Lionel was unanimously proclaimed the conqueror. The mistress of the feast had tastefully entwined a wreath of laurel, which stepping forward she, with an appropriate and polite compliment, placed upon the head of Lionel. Amaranth?'s heart beat violently, for she felt assured of receiving her accustomed homage, and had ready all her sweetest smiles, and most engaging complaisance, as she saw Lionel approach the spot where she was seated. She found, however, that she might as well have reserved them for a fitter occasion, for he passed her without notice, and with a graceful bow, and look that bespoke respect and esteem, laid his trophy at the feet of Ethelinde. Amaranth? had no strength of mind to command herself on such a trial, nor could she conceal the disappointment and vexation it cost her, and was still more insupportably irritated by the general murmur of approbation that accompanied this action of Lionel. She refused to partake of the refreshments, and went home burning with feelings of resentment against him, and of most malignant animosity towards Ethelinde. Still her vanity was not subdued: she determined that the ball, where she meant to appear in a blaze of glittering ornaments, that she believed would render her beauty irresistible, should repay her for all the mortifications of the morning. She recounted the insult, as she thought fit to call it, that had been offered to her, in terms of bitter wrath to Claribel, who attended her toilet; but comforted herself with the near prospect of recrimination, and declared she should have far more pleasure in crushing the pride of that insolent little ugly moppet Ethelinde, than in captivating the first lord in the land. Claribel listened with patience and pity to the detail of her lamentable misfortunes, and disclosure of her amiable intentions, and at last ventured to say--"But, my dear cousin, are you not afraid of incurring the displeasure of the fairy, by falling into the errors she cautioned you against? You may remember she threatened to withdraw her favour if you were guilty of jealousy and envy, and do you know, I do not think you look near so well as you used to do."

Ursula, who was present, assented to the opinion of Claribel. "Indeed, my sweet young lady," said she, "your cousin is right. I have lately observed, with pain and apprehension, your altered looks. I believe the racketing life you have led so long disagrees with you, and am seriously fearful that you will injure your health if you continue it."

It was in vain to urge any arguments against the self-conceit of Amaranth?: that her beauty could be in any degree diminished was a supposition that she would not admit into her thoughts. She added more ornaments to the profusion that already glittered on her person, and doubted not that, with such aids, she should eclipse every belle who would appear at the entertainment. Under this happy persuasion she entered the ball-room, but did not long remain under its cheering influence. No emotion seemed excited by her appearance, no gaze followed her footsteps; those of her former admirers, whom she saw there, rather shunned than approached her, and those who were strangers did not appear to notice her. After she had been seated some little time however, she was in joyful expectation of having her best wishes fulfilled, for she saw Lionel advancing, who, on coming opposite to her, stopped short, and fixed his eyes intently upon her.

Much as her heart fluttered, and her cheeks glowed at this almost unhoped for circumstance, she could not avoid discovering that his looks betrayed more of astonishment than of admiration. Suddenly seeming to recollect himself he slightly bowed, and passing on went up to Ethelinde, whom he immediately engaged for his partner. Fortunately for Amaranth? the bustle and confusion of the dance just then beginning, screened her from the observations that her violent agitation must otherwise have drawn upon her. The dance indeed began, but no one solicited the honour of her fair hand. Amazed, appalled, she knew not what to make of it, at length, rising up, she drew near a party who were in earnest conversation, and did not perceive her. "Is it possible," she heard one of them say, "that that ordinary awkward looking girl, so bedizened with finery, should be the beautiful Amaranth?, of whom I have heard so much, and who my chief purpose in coming hither was to see?" "Believe me," answered another, "what I tell you is true. What has happened to her I cannot conjecture, but I do assure you that not many weeks ago she was the most beautiful creature my eyes ever beheld."

"Oh, oh," said Amaranth? to herself, "now I discern the truth. This is a vile conspiracy amongst my enemies. Some of my wicked rivals, unable to submit to my superior attractions, have planned this scheme on purpose to mortify me, but they shall find themselves defeated in their atrocious designs." She then reared up her head, and stalked along the room with all the stately airs she could assume, but all in vain. Few of the company noticed her at all, and to those who did, she was evidently an object of ridicule. She had not command enough over herself to endure this long with patience. Abruptly quitting the assembly, she returned home in a state of mind and temper that threatened her with insanity. When arrived there she tore off all her gaudy apparel without once looking in the glass, and threw herself into bed, where for some hours she lay tumbling and tossing, but at last fell into a doze, from which she did not awake until mid-day. As soon as she arose she summoned Claribel, that she might give vent to her fury at the detestable events of the evening. Claribel heard the relation of her disgrace with unfeigned concern, but all the time she was speaking looked earnestly at her with marks of excessive surprise. After some hesitation, she, trembling as she spoke, said, "Pray, cousin, have you lately looked at your hyacinth?" The question operated like an electric shock upon Amaranth?. The truth flashed across her mind. She considered a moment, and then rushed to the cabinet where Felicia's pernicious gift was deposited. There indeed she found it with its "bright tint turned to a sickly and disgusting hue." She contemplated it with an aspect of wild despair, then with an effort of desperate resolution flew back to the glass, where, for the first time for many months, she looked at herself with eyes not blinded by vanity. What a spectacle presented itself to her view! Gladly would she have found herself only reduced to her original plainness. Her eyes then, though they sparkled not with the lustre with which the fairy afterwards endowed them, were yet brightened by the vivacity of youth. The texture of her skin was not so delicate, but her cheeks glowed with ruddy health, and though no fascinating dimples accompanied her smiles, they were the playful smiles of innocence. Now, sad reverse! her eyes were dimmed and sunk in her head, her cheeks hollow and of ghastly paleness, and the malevolent passions that had corroded her heart, were traced in deep furrows over her countenance. Almost frozen with horror she uttered a piercing shriek, and fell lifeless on the floor. Claribel affrighted, endeavoured to raise her, and called for assistance, but no one came near her. She thought she heard an unusual disturbance in the castle. Sounds of strange voices speaking loud, trampling of feet, and clapping of doors met her ear, and appeared as if a general uproar prevailed throughout. After she had for some time tried in vain to recover Amaranth?, Ursula hastily entered the apartment, her face pale with terror and dismay, which were increased by seeing the alarming state of her young mistress. Claribel, while she assisted in restoring her, briefly related what had happened, and the poor governess, on hearing it, broke out into bitter lamentations. "Ah! wicked, treacherous fairy," said she, "how have you abused my poor innocent children! would that you had never appeared with your vile gifts, only to betray them to their ruin, and plunge them into a thousand times greater misery than they could have experienced had they never seen you."

Claribel earnestly enquired her meaning, and the cause of the confusion she had heard, and with difficulty, amidst her sobs and moans, gathered what Ursula had herself learned from Gabriel. The creditors of Adrian, hearing of the extravagant style in which he lived, concluded he must soon expend his fortune, and that they should then have no chance of receiving what was due to them. They, therefore, determined to come in a body, and insist upon immediate payment. Adrian, though extremely enraged, resolved, in spite of the opposition of his associates, to satisfy all their demands at once that he might be rid of them. He accordingly repaired to the coffers where his treasures were secured, but on opening found them all empty. He exclaimed loudly that he had been basely robbed; then flew to every chest, desk, or bureau in which he had been used to seek a supply, but found not a single piece of money, or article of value of any kind: while searching the last place of safety he could think of, he was suddenly struck with the sight of his rose, which had fallen from the stalk, and every leaf withered and dead: frantic with despair, he rushed all over the castle proclaiming himself ruined, but hardly sensible of what he said or did. On hearing this, the profligate crew, who had called themselves his friends, speedily made off, nor would stay even to offer him consolation. The creditors incensed at being thus defrauded of their right, thought it best to make themselves what amends they could, and began tearing away all the costly furniture, and seizing upon every thing valuable they could find. The servants too, thinking they should have no other method of being paid, had joined in the general plunder, and were all taking their departure as soon as they could secure what they had pillaged.

Amaranth? revived before Ursula had finished her dismal narrative, but she attended not to it, nor seemed conscious of any thing that passed. Claribel and Ursula continued administering restoratives to her, when the door opened, and the form of Adrian, but far more resembling that of a spectre, slowly entered. He placed himself on a seat, and fixed his haggard eyes upon his sister. She raised her's to him, but no sound gave utterance to the feelings their looks mutually expressed. It was not the mild grief that could be soothed by sympathy; it was the gloomy anguish of remorse, the humiliating sense of unworthiness, the incurable torture of shame. Claribel and Ursula looked at them in speechless sorrow, for no ray of comfort presented itself to alleviate their sufferings.

Thus were these unfortunate young people, by the indulgence of their own wishes, and the attainment of what they supposed could produce only gratification and happiness, reduced to a state of apparently irremediable distress. Even Claribel shared in the general misery. Not that the gift of the fairy had lost its influence upon her; the lily was fresh as ever. She was contented in her own person, and formed no wishes for herself; but she could not behold the wretched condition of her friends unmoved. Though not subject to strong emotions, her heart was tender and affectionate. Her cousins were her sole objects of attachment, and it was still unabated towards them. Ursula could do nothing but bewail their sad destiny; she was weak and helpless. Gabriel was the only rational person of the party. He collected together the little that remained out of the wreck of the possessions, and tried to put things in some order to make them more comfortable. The generous old man never reminded them of the advice he had given, or took to himself the credit that was his due for his better judgment.

Claribel had used all the arguments she could devise to reconcile Amaranth? to her altered state, but with little success. One remarkably fine day she prevailed upon her to go out into the air: they walked to a part of the grounds that had in their childhood been appropriated as their play place. Here, while resting on a bench, they were joined by Adrian. The brother and sister now found words to relieve the weight of woe that oppressed them, but it was by heaping invectives on the deceitful Felicia. From accusing the fairy they began to upbraid each other. "You, Amaranth?," said Adrian, "have no right to complain: you might at least have been spared the misfortune of poverty. Had it not been for your abominable vanity and coquetry, you might have been happily and nobly settled."

"You are unjust to say so, Adrian," retorted his sister; "you know very well it was your refusing to bestow a fortune upon me, that prevented many of my lovers from soliciting my hand in marriage; but you were given up to selfishness, and cared not what became of me."

"For pity's sake, my dear cousins," cried Claribel, "do not quarrel. Remember, destitute orphans as we are, we have nothing left in this world but each other, and if we are not united, what is to become of us?"

Adrian was touched; looking tenderly on his sister, "Claribel is right," said he. "We are, indeed, bereaved of every thing else, and shall we forsake each other? Ah, Amaranth?!" he continued, his eyes swimming in tears, "time was when all our joys and all our wishes centred in each other. How fondly you once loved me--and is it at an end? Will you love me no more?" The native good feelings of Amaranth?'s heart, that had so long lain dormant, were now revived. Bursting into an agony of crying, she threw her arms round her brother's neck, and sobbed out, "Yes, yes, dear Adrian; I love you better than ever. Oh, do but be kind to me, and I will cease to deplore the loss of my beauty." After embracing her affectionately, Adrian, looking mournfully round, observed--"This was the scene of our childish sports. How joyously we bounded like fawns over this lawn! When turning our hoops or tossing our balls, how little cared I for riches or you for beauty! And there," pointing with his hand, "is the shrubbery where we used to play at hide and seek, and laugh at poor Claribel for not being able to find us. See the woodbine that you and she used to twine round my hat and crook, when I played at being a shepherd."

"And those," said Amaranth?, "are the trees you so often climbed to get birds' eggs for Claribel and me to string, when we pretended to be hermits, and called them our rosaries!"

"Happy, happy days of blessed innocence!" groaned out her brother; "would to heaven ye could be recalled! Never again would I barter ye for grandeur and licentiousness!"

While the unhappy trio continued weeping over these painful recollections, they suddenly observed an extraordinary appearance in the air. A large machine, resembling a car, was hovering in it, and at length descending slowly to the earth fixed itself at no great distance from them. They then saw a lady clad in a purple robe, with a long white wand in her hand, step out of it and advance towards them. They were immediately struck with the belief that it was the fairy, but with what different sensations did the brother and sister now greet her, to those which her first appearance had occasioned! Confused and dismayed, they would have fled from her presence had not terror rendered them motionless, for they doubted not that she was come to reproach them, if not to punish their ill conduct. When she drew nearer, and they ventured to look at her again, they discovered that the figure was taller and more dignified than that of Felicia. Her face was not so fair, and its expression was more solemn, but her countenance was more commanding, and her aspect altogether inspired awe and veneration. "Perhaps," whispered Claribel, "it is the fairy Benigna." The minds of her cousins assented to this suggestion, but it by no means diminished their apprehensions. If they had so much cause to dread the censure of Felicia, what had they to hope from the severe Benigna?

Trembling, and not daring to speak or move, they stood before her, while she regarded them for some time in silence, with looks that lost much of their solemnity, and expressed pity and benevolence. Then, in a mild tone, said, "Poor hapless victims of ignorance and error, your consciences tell you that I am come to inflict the chastisement due to your folly and guilt; but lay aside your fears. I can allow for and compassionate the offences of feeble mortality. I am come to take you from this scene of desolation and disgrace, which can only remind you of lost happiness. Are you willing to trust yourselves with me?" Whatever the private inclinations of the party might be, they were too much in awe of this powerful being to offer any resistance to her will: they only bowed in token of submission. She then placed them all in the car, and mounting it herself after them, waved her wand when the machine arose with a gentle motion into the air, which it wafted them through, but at what rate, or whither to, they could not judge. They were so amazed, and their senses so bewildered, that they almost doubted if they were awake, or whether all that had passed were not a dream!

They could not calculate how long they had been travelling in this easy manner, when they found the vehicle again descending to the earth, where it rested before a white house, that had every appearance of neatness and comfort, though not of magnificence.

It was situated in the middle of a garden, laid out in excellent taste, and well stored with fruits, flowers, and shrubs of all kinds, bounded by verdant meadows, with a fine river passing through them, and the surrounding country richly cultivated, and luxuriantly beautiful.

Their conductress desired them to enter the house, where the first objects that met their view, were Ursula and Gabriel, who had been conveyed thither by the agents of the fairy, and who welcomed them with raptures of joy.

Benigna led them through the apartments which were sufficiently spacious for convenience, and fitted up with elegance and propriety. The last she introduced them into was, a library, furnished with a large collection of books, maps, globes, &c. "And now, my young friends," said she, "do you think you can be happy in such a habitation as this?" Adrian, willing to ingratiate himself in her opinion, promptly replied, "Ah, Madam, we shall be most happy to receive any favour from you. You, no doubt, will always continue your generous kindness, and not desert us like the treacherous Felicia."

"Presumptuous mortal!" answered Benigna, with a frown, "what right have you or your sister to call Felicia treacherous? Did you not obstinately persist in choosing the gifts she warned you against? And did either of you practise the good precepts she gave you with them? Had they been observed, you are conscious that you might still have been rich, and Amaranth? handsome. But come," she added, observing the effect her words had upon them, "be not alarmed. My design is not to arraign, but to instruct. The fact is, my sister is not treacherous, but she is injudicious. Her power is very limited, and the few gifts she has to bestow, are more likely to ensnare than to benefit those whom she means to serve. She gave you, indeed, good advice, but she could not endow you with the good sense that would enable you to follow it. Even you, my quiet Claribel, have not, I fancy, profited much by her favor. Say, were you very happy in the possession of your lily?" Claribel, after considering a little, answered, "I do not know that I was absolutely happy. I was, indeed, always contented, as she promised I should be, and never felt inclined to repine, or be vexed at any thing; but I do not remember ever experiencing any particular pleasure." "No," returned the fairy, "nor would any one under such circumstances. The content Felicia bestowed on you, was not the happy result of a well-regulated mind, satisfied with its own exertions, and the performance of those duties incumbent on all rational beings. It was indolence, mistaken for a virtue. A being endued with reason, of which it obeys not the dictates; with faculties, of which it makes no use, but is content to occupy its station in life without fulfilling the purposes for which it was placed there, is scarcely less censurable than those who waste their time in riot and dissipation. Others may reap some advantage from their follies, but no benefit can be derived from a mere moving machine."

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