ghostly, which like a pall was just commencing to darken the rich, untrammeled, and exuberant genius of the Spanish muse. In the midst of the great tumult produced by our political regeneration, poetry seemed only to find its inspiration within the tomb. It seemed as though the first breath of freedom had awakened the poetic genius of that day, making it gloomy and dreadful, so that it sought for inspiration in everything that was gloomy and dull.
Ernestina was the very personification of romanticism, and perchance deemed it to be her duty to typify the visions of that dreadful literature. Her languid air, her sweet, faint voice made it appear as though she only deigned to walk on the earth, for she belonged to a higher sphere.
However, she possessed all the adyantages of wealth, and everything to make her life cheerful. She was an only daughter, and her father idolized her.
She had many suitors. Some sought to win her love by inditing melancholy sonnets to her, while others threatened to shoot themselves or me, poison themselves on account of her cruelty in repulsing them. However, Ernestina remained unmoved. All her suitors appeared commonplace and prosaic, and none came up to her ideal.
Her father was not sorry, for he was in no hurry to have her get married, Therefore he was willing she should continue to dream of the enchanted prince who would come some day to awaken her heart. He did not know that
