Fostina Woodman, the Wonderful Adventurer | Page 7

now far distant from her. She leaned her
head upon her hands and wept bitterly; her cousin endeavored to cheer
her with words of love and tenderness, and gently passing his arm
around her waist, imprinted a kiss upon her fair cheek. Fostina thinking
this a bold intrusion upon the sacred cause of her grief, rose and left the
apartment.

The day was fast drawing to a close, and the lovely maiden again
wandered forth to visit the sacred spot where slept her beloved friends.
After remaining there some time, she returned and seated herself
beneath a lofty elm, which stood near the cottage, and turning her eyes
in the direction of the Mountain, she beheld Rineldo approaching, who,
on seeing his cousin, immediately came forward and seated himself
near her, in the mean time, expressing great surprise that she had again
ventured out at that late hour alone.
Fostina made but little reply, and rose from her seat to depart; Rineldo
soon followed, not a little displeased with her seeming indifference
towards him, and the wish that she plainly manifested to avoid his
company.
Fostina had ever treated her cousin with respect, and regarded him as a
friend for the great kindness which he had ever manifested towards her
since she had resided in her uncle's family. She now saw that, by
receiving his attentions, she was placing herself in a dangerous
situation.
Rineldo sought every opportunity to converse with his cousin; he
declared his love and offered his hand, making every effort to win her
affections. Fostina in a resolute and determined manner made known to
him her love for Lewis Mortimer, which was forever unchangeable.
Rineldo, on hearing this declaration from the lips of his cousin, passed
the remainder of the day in silence, and made no farther allusion to the
subject.
Towards evening Fostina retired to her apartment, and seated herself at
an open window which overlooked the gardens belonging to the cottage.
The evening zephyrs moved gently the branches of a willow, which
shaded the window where she was seated. The lonely maiden sat
musing awhile, and then, with a low, musical voice, she sang the
following lines:--
"Mournfully, O, mournfully, This midnight wind doth sigh! Like some
sweet, plaintive melody Of ages long gone by; It speaks a tale of other
years, Of hopes that bloomed to die-- Of sunny smiles that set in tears,

And loves that mould'ring lie.
"Mournfully, O, mournfully, This midnight wind doth moan! It stirs
some chord of memory, In each dull, heavy tone; The voices of the
much-loved dead Seem floating thereupon; All, all my fond heart
cherished, Ere death had made it lone.
"Mournfully, O, mournfully, This midnight wind doth swell! With its
quaint, pensive minstrelsy, Hope's passionate farewell: To the dreamy
joys of early years, Ere yet grief's canker fell On the heart's bloom--ay,
well may tears, Start at that parting knell!"
On the following morning, Mr. and Mrs. Aubrey proposed riding to the
village, and expressed a wish to have Fostina and Rineldo accompany
them. It was with great reluctance that she gave her consent, thinking
that it would be placing herself in the society of her cousin, whose
company she wished to avoid.
At an early hour the carriage was brought to the door, and Mr. Aubrey
and his wife seating themselves, their son hastily stepping forward, and
taking the hand of Fostina, pressed it gently to his lips, while with the
other he raised the trembling girl to the carriage, and taking a seat by
her side, drove rapidly away.
They soon arrived at the village, where they stopped at the residence
formerly owned by Mr. Aubrey; but since his removal to the Mountain,
it had been occupied by a distant relative.
When they arrived at the residence of their friend, they were kindly
welcomed by the family, who appeared much delighted on seeing
Fostina. The day passed on very pleasantly, without any important
occurrence, and after bidding adieu to their friends they again returned
home.
That evening Fostina retired at an early hour, feeling as if her troubles
were increased, and that instead of finding friends, she saw herself
placed among those, who she had every reason to believe would seek to
destroy her happiness. The unceasing attention of her cousin, and the

encouragement which he received from his parents to forward his
advances, after she had made known to them her engagement with
Lewis Mortimer, deeply wounded the feelings of the gentle and loving
Fostina, who now felt as if she was alone, as it were, without a friend to
cheer her in her forlorn situation. She felt that she could no longer
repose confidence in those whom she had once considered friends, and
to whose care she had been entrusted by her absent