'Yes, Annette, you love the wonderful; but do you know, that, unless you guard against this inclination, it will lead you into all the misery of superstition?'

Annette might have smiled in her turn, at this sage observation of Emily, who could tremble with ideal terrors, as much as herself, and listen almost as eagerly to the recital of a mysterious story. Annette urged her request.

'Are you sure it is a picture?' said Emily, 'Have you seen it?—Is it veiled?'

'Holy Maria! ma'amselle, yes, no, yes. I am sure it is a picture—I have seen it, and it is not veiled!'

The tone and look of surprise, with which this was uttered, recalled Emily's prudence; who concealed her emotion under a smile, and bade Annette lead her to the picture. It was in an obscure chamber, adjoining that part of the castle, allotted to the servants. Several other portraits hung on the walls, covered, like this, with dust and cobweb.

'That is it, ma'amselle,' said Annette, in a low voice, and pointing. Emily advanced, and surveyed the picture. It represented a lady in the flower of youth and beauty; her features were handsome and noble, full of strong expression, but had little of the captivating sweetness, that Emily had looked for, and still less of the pensive mildness she loved. It was a countenance, which spoke the language of passion, rather than that of sentiment; a haughty impatience of misfortune—not the placid melancholy of a spirit injured, yet resigned.

'How many years have passed, since this lady disappeared, Annette?' said Emily.

'Twenty years, ma'amselle, or thereabout, as they tell me; I know it is a long while ago.' Emily continued to gaze upon the portrait.

'I think,' resumed Annette, 'the Signor would do well to hang it in a better place, than this old chamber. Now, in my mind, he ought to place the picture of a lady, who gave him all these riches, in the handsomest room in the castle. But he may have good reasons for what he does: and some people do say that he has lost his riches, as well as his gratitude. But hush, ma'am, not a word!' added Annette, laying her finger on her lips. Emily was too much absorbed in thought, to hear what she said.

"Tis a handsome lady, I am sure,' continued Annette: 'the Signor need not be ashamed to put her in the great apartment, where the veiled picture hangs.' Emily turned round. 'But for that matter, she would be as little seen there, as here, for the door is always locked, I find.'

'Let us leave this chamber,' said Emily: 'and let me caution you again, Annette; be guarded in your conversation, and never tell, that you know any thing of that picture.'

'Holy Mother!' exclaimed Annette, 'it is no secret; why all the servants have seen it already!'

Emily started. 'How is this?' said she—'Have seen it! When?—how?'

'Dear, ma'amselle, there is nothing surprising in that; we had all a little more CURIOUSNESS than you had.'