tempt one to believe the tales of the poets, and ascribe them to the genii of these mountains."
"Lord a mercy, my dear young lady (said the nurse, who only caught the last sentence), what a conceit! from a genius indeed; no, they come from a poor young gentleman, who frequently rambles about the heights, playing such mournful ditties as often and often makes me and my girls weep; and we think, to be sure, he has been crossed in love, and that nothing else could make him so melancholy, and so fond of being alone, and sitting for hours together in the deepest solitude by himself; and a pity it is he should have met with any thing to trouble him, he is so gentle and so handsome, and looks so good."
"Do you know his name?" asked Olivia, whose curiosity was strongly excited.
"No, Mam'selle; but I know he comes from V———, for I asked him one day if he did not, and he said yes."
