| Darknefs and Light. 111

thing particularly lovely brought fo painfully before
her mind the fact that her child’s eyes were clofed
to all thefe things, that fhe often forbore to look
again, and fo fpared herfelf a repetition of the
pang. Madeline’s eyes therefore remained upon
her work, or on her knee when fhe ceafed work-
ing,—for ever and anon there was a burft of noife
and merriment about the old houfe, which ftartled
her from her painful thoughts. It was, however,
the happy voices of her children, and again and
again fhe fank into her melancholy mood, and fo
continued till the red hue of a very red funfet
burft as it were fuddenly into the room, and
lighted up the portrait of Roderick, which hung
over the mantel-piece. Involuntarily Madeline’s
eyes glanced from the lovely countenance of her
then bright-eyed boy, thus illuminated, to the fun
beyond the Sea. She was too late, however. He
had juft defcended behind the waves in a perfect
flood of crimfon glory, but as fhe gazed, (for fhe
could not withdraw -her eyes,) a haze—yes, the
fofteft and moft etherial cloud-like haze, fhowing
the outline of a beautiful mountainous ifland, rofe
in the far off diftance, juft on the verge of the
horizon. It was the Fairy Ifland. It recalled to
the mother’s remembrance the exiftence of her
Fairy coufin once more. “ Cruel, cruel Eudora,”
fhe exclaimed, ‘‘ you offered me friendfhip and
affiftance, and in the hour of trouble and affliction
you have never been near to help or even to com-
fort me.”’

And Madeline, in the bitternefs of her heart,