said to have kept her when she lived upon nothing but mice-had entered with her, and had been shut in. The cat had made most of her time, and as a fowl was a greater treat to her than mice, she had made bold to seize it, and in jumping down with her prey in her mouth, she had knocked down some crockery, among which was Balducci's favorite plate. Bettina and her master entered the pantry in time to rescue the fowl, but the china plate | was shivered into twenty pieces. Neither cement nor rivets could put it together again. The author of the mischief slipped out when the door was opened, and did not venture to show herself again for several days. Bettina was dumb with consternation; Balducci furious with passion. "Vile, gambling, extravagant hussy," he exclaimed," is this the way you take care of your master's property? Did I bring home a fowl which cost me a zwanziger and a half, to be eaten by a cat? I'll tie her up by the neck to the fig-tree in the court, to serve as a warning to all her thievish race, as soon as I can lay my hands upon her. But my plate, my china plate, which my father brought from India, and which he eat off as long as he lived, and which I have used ever since, it cannot be replaced. It was beyond all price, and to have it broken at last by a cat! It is past endurance; and you, spendthrift and gambler, what shall I say to you, fool that you are! This all comes of your folly in buying the lottery ticket! You shall pay for the plate; you shall pay for the fowl. Get you gone out of my sight." He pushed her before him, and locked the door of the pantry. Time passed on, and peace was gradually restored in the household of Balducci. As if by mutual agreement, the lottery ticket was not again mentioned by either of them. Balducci, however, had not forgotten it, and he seldom went out without glancing his eye at the government placards to see whether any prizes had been drawn since Bettina's purchase. One day he observed a crowd of people round the office, and approaching in order to ascertain the cause, he saw it posted up that one of the prizes of one hundred thousand zwanzigers had been drawn, and that the fortunate number was 4444. Balducci was thunderstruck. It was the number of the ticket purchased by Bettina. Who could have expected that she would draw a prize, and such a prize? She was now richer than he was. It was probable, nay, next to certain that she would leave him, for it was not to be expected that a woman who possessed a fortune of one hundred thousand zwanzigers would continue to act as a menial servant. Whom should he get to supply her place? As these reflections passed through his mind, self, his own dear self being at the bottom of all his cogitations, he wended his way homeward. Suddenly a thought struck him: "What if I were to marry Bettina? Then I should secure not only the zwanzigers, but her services. It is true she is my servant, but I shall not be the first man who has married his servant by a great many. I am growing old, and shall want some one to wait upon me, and who will make so good a nurse as a wife? and Bettina will make a very good wife. She is economical, too, and not given to gadding about; and then she is very obedient, and always treats me with proper respect. Besides, if I don't marry her, soon some one else will; that's certain. I'll go and propose at once; at least as soon as I have ascertained that her ticket has really won the prize. I wrote down the number on the chimney, and can soon satisfy myself. In the meantime I will keep the matter a secret; it will be such an agreeable surprise to Bettina to acquaint her with her good fortune on our wedding-day, for she is sure to accept my offer." Lost in these agreeable meditations, Balducci knocked at his own gate, which was opened by Bettina. "Thank you, my dear," said he, very graciously, but without losing a moment, he walked straight up to the chimney and looked anxiously at the number he had marked on it. Bettina It was 4444 to a certainty. was a rich woman, and should be his wife. He would secure the prize before another should seize it; indeed, before she should hear of her good fortune from others. In the course of that evening he offered his hand and his fortune-his heart does not appear to have been included in the bargain-to Bettina. The astonishment of the housekeeper was boundless. She could scarcely believe her ears. In her humility she could not feel sufficiently grateful that her own master, a gentleman of honorable family, should really offer to make her his wife. She was quite overwhelmed by his condescension. But she was also quite at a loss how to answer him; at last she bethought herself of asking him to give her until the following morning to consider her answer to this very unexpected proposal. That night was a sleepless one to Bettina. She turned from side to side in her bed until every blade of maize straw of which her mattress was composed, rustled. It was long before she came to a decision, for although she was much flattered by the offer she had received, still Balducci was not exactly the man she should have chosen. She reflected that she was not a young woman, and as a time might come when she would not be able to work, it would be a pleasant thing to think that she was comfortably provided for for life; and this would make amends for some inconveniences. Besides, she really was attached to her master, with whom and with his mother she had lived from her childhood. She made up her mind, then, to accept Balducci's offer, and when at breakfast time he asked for her answer, she acquainted him with her decision. The next point was to fix the weddingday. Balducci, who had his own motives for hastening matters, proposed an early day. Bettina saw no reason for postponing the ceremony, especially as her master wished to hasten it. Besides, when the gentleman was sixty years of age, and the lady on the wrong side of fifty, there was certainly no time to lose. An early day was therefore fixed, and the arrangements were specially made for the wedding. The preparations were very simple. Balducci's house was so close to the church that no carriage was necessary. There were no near relatives on either side, and but few acquaintances. The only guest invited to the wedding dinner was the priest who officiated in Santa Sofia, and who had the care of the consciences of Balducci and Bettina. The wedding-day arrived, and the Gordian knot, to be severed only by the scythe of death, was tied. Bettina, who never before had a surname, was now entitled to be called "Signora Balducci." The husband and wife walked home from the church arm in arm, and were admitted to their habitation by the new servant, who, VOL. XI.-27 by Balducci's orders, had been hired to take Bettina's place in the kitchen. A goodly dinner, such as had not graced the table of the old house since the death of his mother, was prepared. There was cabbage and pumpkin soup, plentifully flavored with grated Parmesan cheese, a dish of boiled meat, a dish of fried meat, a ragout, a roast fowl; there were truffles swimming in oil, a dish of polenta garnished with small birds, a capital cheese from Lodi. These delicacies were followed by a dessert of apples, figs, mostarda dolce, (that is, plums and other fruits preserved with sugar and mustard-seeds,) savoy biscuits, and roasted chestnuts. Bettina, in her new capacity as mistress, superintended the arrangements for the repast, and as the church clock struck the hour which had been named for the dinner, a gentle tap was heard at the door. It was opened speedily. "Pax vobiscum," said a cheerful, sonorous voice, and Father Clemente stepped into the room. He was a tall, robustlooking man, who would have been called handsome in any company. He had a ruddy complexion, an aquiline nose, and the prominent, well-cut chin which so strongly marks the Italian type of countenance. A fringe of dark brown hair surrounded his temples, and curled round the edge of his black skull-cap, and his high white forehead. His hazel eye sparkled with good humor, and harmonized with the pleasant expression of his mouth. His long black garment, buttoned only half way down, did not conceal a well-shaped leg and neat ankle, clad in black knee-breeches and stockings. "Pax vobiscum," he repeated, removing his skull-cap, which he immediately replaced. "Et cum vobis," answered Balducci and Bettina. "My respects to the bride and bridegroom. May you both enjoy many years of happiness," resumed Father Clemente, extending a hand to each, and kindly and heartily pressing theirs. "I hope I am not late." "Whoever knew a priest too late for dinner?" asked Balducci, who was in unwonted good spirits. "Not I," answered Father Clemente; "and if I had forgotten the hour, the savory steam issuing from your kitchen and perfuming the surrounding air, would have reminded me of it. It rejoices the very said he, almost closing his teeth, and cockles of my heart." 66 My wife has exerted herself to do honor to our guest, and to this our wedding-day. But we must not run the risk of spoiling her cookery by a longer delay." They took their seats at the table and began dinner; Bettina for the first time presiding as mistress at the table where she had formerly waited as servant. She could not quite shake off the shyness and timidity incident to her new situation; but the cheerful and social humor of Padre Clemente at last succeeded in making her feel at ease. As to Balducci, he was in such uproariously good spirits, especially after the wine-and it was some of the choice vintage of Montmeillant-began to circulate more briskly, that Bettina almost doubted whether he really was her old master. At last the dessert was placed on the table, and the new servant withdrew. 'My dear," said Balducci, who seemed to fall with wonderful facility into the phraseology of married people, “I have a little surprise which I think will give you as much pleasure as it has done me. Having occasion to go into the town this morning, I observed that a notice was posted up to the effect that a prize of one hundred thousand zwanzigers had just been drawn in the lottery, and that the fortunate number was 4444; the number, if I recollect right, of your ticket." "O Blessed Virgin Mary!" exclaimed Bettina, clasping her hands. "How unfortunate I am." "Unfortunate! my dear; quite the reverse, unless you think it a great evil to possess a fortune of one hundred thousand zwanzigers. There is no mistake about it, for I went to the principal office to ascertain the truth." stamping wildly with his foot. "Speak!" "Stop, stop, my friend," said Padre Clemente, “you terrify the signora ; give her time to reply to one question at a time." Bettina also had risen from her seat, and although her eyes were still, with a kind of fascination like that with which a bird gazes at the snake about to devour him, fixed upon Balducci, she instinctively stood behind her chair, which she interposed between herself and the excited interrogator. "Where is the ticket ?" shouted Balducci. "Alas! I know not," said Bettina. “I have sold it." "When? where? why ?" asked Balducci. Padre Clemente laid his hand upon the arm of the anxious inquirer. "I will ask her. Leave her to me." Then turning to Bettina, he said kindly, "Will the signora tell me what she knows about the lottery ticket?" 66 My master," replied Bettina, who seemed to have fallen back on her old habits of expression, “will recollect that when I told him I had purchased a lottery ticket, he reproved me for my folly, pointing out the small chance I had of drawing a prize, and the all but certainty of losing my money." "And why did you not tell me what you had done?" asked Balducci, fiercely. "Gently, gently," interrupted Padre Clemente, the peace-maker, touching the arm of Balducci. Then addressing Bettina, he said, "Will the signora say why she did not mention having sold the ticket?" "Because my master desired me never to mention the subject to him again." "You see the signora is not to blame," "There is a mistake," said Bettina, said the padre. looking very blank. Balducci began to feel somewhat alarmed. "A mistake? what do you mean?" "The prize is not mine. I sold the ticket," replied Bettina, with faltering ac cents. "Sold the ticket!" almost shrieked Balducci, springing from his seat, and leaning his two hands upon the table, he fixed his eyes with ghastly eagerness upon the now trembling woman. "Sold the ticket, did you say? when? why? speak, woman," "Fool, dolt, idiot, accursed be your folly !" exclaimed Balducci, stamping with rage; "accursed be my own folly to suffer myself to be deceived by a woman. Do you think I would have mar " He stopped abruptly, fortunately recollecting before he exposed them, that his motives in marrying Bettina were not sufficiently pure to bear the light of day. There was a pause. Bettina's eyes were fixed upon him in trembling anxiety; her fate seemed to hang on his words. He struck his forehead. claimed. "I am a ruined man," he ex "Not so," said Padre Clemente. "If you have lost a prize in the imperial and royal lottery, you have gained a prize in the great lottery of life. A good wife, such as I am satisfied that Bettina will be, is worth more than one hundred thousand zwanzigers." "I will part with her for less than half the money," replied Balducci, bitterly; “nay, I will make her a present to any one who will take her off my hands, or even pay something handsome to be rid of her. Confound her, she is as ugly as sin, and as old as Santa Sofia itself." Padre Clemente, instead of replying, took the hand of Bettina and led her to the door. "Go," said he, " signora, to your room for a short time; he will be reasonable presently." had the heart to spend a florin of it. Now, by marrying a person who has served you so long and so faithfully as the signora, you have, if you do but treat your wife with common civility and attention, secured the affectionate services of one whose attachment to your family and to yourself personally is undoubted. But what are Bettina's prospects? She has married a man in a different rank of life, who has openly expressed that he married her for her supposed fortune, and who has given way on his wedding-day to a terrible outbreak of passion and anger against his unoffending wife. In disposing of her ticket, she did but act according to what she thought were your wishes on the subject." Balducci sat down, and buried his face in his hands. "It is too true," said he at last. He shut the door after her and returned to his seat. Balducci stalked up and down the room like a madman. Padre Clemente waited patiently until his rage was exhausted. He might as well have tried to turn back the River Brenta when it was swollen by the melting of the Alpine He replenished his own glass and that of his host. "Drink," said he; "you oblige me to do the honors; the wine of Montmeillant is too good to waste its fragrance on the desert air." Balducci mechanically took the glass, ing all the dignity of his office. which he drained. "Let us endeavor to take things as they are, and bow our heads to the supreme wisdom. L'homme propose, le Bon Dieu dispose. Blessed be his holy name," said the good priest, rising, and reverently raising his skull-cap, which he then replaced. "Why do you not say, Amen, my son ?" snows. "And now I will thank you for a fig," said the priest. The dish was handed in silence. For some time neither party spoke; at last Balducci said, as if speaking to himself, “If I had but known it yesterday !” "What then?" "Why, that woman would have been standing behind my chair instead of sitting at the head of my table." "After all," said the priest, apparently soliloquizing, "the signora has the worst end of the staff." "How do you make that out?" said Balducci, bristling up. "Have I not married my servant, when I thought to espouse a woman with a fortune of one hundred thousand zwanzigers?" "You did not want the zwanzigers; you have always had more money than you can spend. What would you have been the better for having so large a sum locked up in a box? You would not have 66 Amen," replied Balducci, again covering his face in his hands. "Confess your sin, and pray for forgiveness, my son," said the priest, assum He led the way to a small table at the other end of the room, and seated himself at one end of it. Balducci, accustomed to obey his spiritual director, followed as he was desired, and kneeling at the other end of the table, confessed to the priest, and received his absolution on the promise of performing the penance enjoined by the good padre. This was not very severe, although it required some self-control on the part of Balducci. Padre Clemente required that he should treat his new wife with civility and attention. "Now," said the priest, "shall we recall the signora ?" Balducci's reply was in the affirmative. Padre Clemente left the room, and after some little time he returned with Bettina, whose pale face and red and swollen eyes bore testimony to the agitation she had undergone. Balducci offered her his hand, and apologized for his intemperate conduct. "Let us drink forgetfulness of the past, and happiness for the future," said the padre. "With all my heart,” replied Balducci. assisting him to lean on them. "Come, Bettina." gers now in exchange for your wife?" asked the good-natured padre, as Bettina was holding her husband's crutches, and Again they resumed their seats at the table. "The bottle is empty," said Padre Clemente, holding it up to the light; "you must give us another upon this occasion. A wedding-day does not often come more than once in a man's life." "I must trouble you for a candle, Bettina," said Balducci, rising and taking out the keys of the cellar. The candle was brought, and Balducci went to get another bottle of wine. In a few seconds there was a loud noise as of something falling. The padre and Bettina flew to the door and followed in the direction of the sound. "O Blessed Virgin, O Maria Santissima," exclaimed Bettina, "the signor has fallen down the cellar stairs!" 66 "No," replied Balducci, nor one hundred thousand. I have learned to value a good wife above all things, and to prefer the prize I have drawn in the lottery of life to any which the Imperial and Royal Lottery of Vienna can offer." FROM CADIZ TO GRANADA. A IN TWO CHAPTERS.-CHAPTER II FTER remaining sufficiently long in Seville to see the objects of interest there, I determined to pass by the way of Cordova to Granada, and having secured a companion for the journey, left Seville on the morning of March 25th. Following the advice of old Bailli, the guide at Seville, we equipped ourselves with Spanish costumes, and were, consequently, two of the most quizzical looking individuals that could well be imagined; for our horses were rather indifferent quadrupeds, and harmonized well with our personal appearance. Our guide was Luis Bailli, a son of Antonio Bailli, whose grandfather was guillotined in France during the Reign of Terror. Antonio's father made his escape to Spain; and on attaining years of discretion began to discharge the functions of guide to travelers, and this business he has since followed. In his different excursions he has passed over almost the whole of Spain, but is now growing too old and fat to travel on horseback, and acts as ciceroni to the lions of Seville, in which pursuit he has made a good deal of money, for his powers as a linguist cause him to be much sought The stairs were dark as night, but a deep groan from below proved that she was right. To get another lighted candle and descend the stairs was scarcely the work of a minute. Balducci was lying grievously hurt at the foot of the stairs; his head had struck, and was leaning against, the cellar door. The padre was a strong man, and with the assistance of Bettina he carried the injured and almost unconscious man up the stairs, and deposited him upon the sofa in the saloon they had lately occupied. A doctor was sent for. On examination it was found that besides the injury on the head, one of his legs had been broken. The limb was set, and the patient, placed in his bed, was left to the care and attention of Bettina. Thus ended Guiseppe Balducci's wed- after, and he always has a tale appropriate ding-day. For more than six weeks Balducci lay helpless upon his bed. Bettina's kindness and attention were unremitting. She was the best and most untiring of nurses. Padre Clemente also had been constant in his visits. His cheerfulness raised the patient's spirits, while his piety taught him resignation to the Divine will. Balducci rose from his bed of sickness and suffering a better and a wiser man. He had found out that there was something more desirable than riches. to every important object, inventing one if his memory fails. Luis, our protégé, was a tall, fine - looking fellow, about twenty-three years of age, and in the course of our journey displayed many important qualifications of a good courier. Our first day's journey was to be a short one, and it was therefore eleven o'clock before we left the Fonda de Madrid, where A., my companion, had been staying. There were many English and Americans at that time in Seville, and quite a crowd had collected to see us fairly off. After "Will you take fifty thousand zwanzi- duly examining whether everything was |