"Yet, one moment since you were decided!" "True; but-but”- I felt it must be said; so turning partly aside-"I must consult other wishes than my own," I replied; "I must mention it to".

"Der Teufel! I must have it, Leo," said another voice in reply.

O that voice, that voice! And had I come hither for this! I shrunk back into the recess, and felt the paternal arm of my friend pass round me in support. "You must go to some one else, excellency, for your money," said the Jew. "I am a poor man, and cannot give."

"I must have a day to consider," I said falter-walked fast, unheeding the pools of water that lay table, and a sound like turning the leaves of a book. ingly. upon the path. My feet were cold and wet through;"I cannot do it, excellency-I cannot do it. The I thought of the night when I had so gone through estates will not bear another groschen. They are the streets of London-a night as inclement as this. mortgaged to their full value, excellency. It cannot I almost fancied I was acting it again, and under the be." same circumstances, when we stopped before a low door, with a fantastically covered overhanging porch. The house was small, not a light was visible from any of the windows; three gloomy trees, striped of their foliage, swung their arms mournfully before the door and a dog began barking furiously within. Herr Stolberg knocked gently with his hand upon the window; there was a sound of chains and bolts, the door opened slowly, and a female form stood in the entrance. She took me by the hand, and led me along the passage, while Herr Stolberg, who seemed to know the way, followed softly behind. It was profoundly dark; she guided us to what seemed a room, and saying that she would bring a light, went out and closed the door. I shook convulsively from head to foot.

"To the Baron von Bachhoffen!" exclaimed the chapel-master in a hoarse voice. "O Fräulein Alice, you have this day called me your friend. If you believe in my friendship, if you would requite it, do not, I entreat of you, mention the letter to the baron till after nine o'clock this night. I implore you to grant it!"

His voice was agitated, and his utterence rapid; he seized one of my hands between both of his own and crushed it in an iron grasp that almost betrayed me into an expression of pain; his black eyes shone with a wild light into mine, and he trembled visibly. I was frightened, and almost weeping at his strange vehemence.

"Promise me Fräulein-promise me!" His look was so beseeching, and so earnest, that I said: "Well, I promise; but only till after nine o'clock to-night."

"Be here in readiness to receive me," said the chapel-master in the same hurried tone, but lower, as if he feared to be overheard—“be here at six or seven o'clock I will then call upon you again. I must find you alone, and you must suffer yourself to be guided by me place yourself in my hands for a single hour. Speak no word of this or of the letter till the time promised. Be silent. Farewell!"

"Fear nothing, Fräulein Alice," said my friend,
taking my hand gently in his own-" Heavens! you
are ill!"

“I am cold, nothing more,” I replied faintly.
"Cold-cold and wet," he exclaimed in a sup-
pressed and broken voice. "My God! You will
be ill-ill, and through me!”

66

"Give! did a Jew ever give!" said the other. No, friend Leo, I ask no gifts-the gentleman does not beg from the money-lender. I must have further loans. I want a thousand florins."

O the harsh, cold, mocking voice! How unlike the gentle tones of love I had been used to hear from those dear lips!

"A thousand florins, excellency!" cried the usurer. "Mein Gott! your estates are not worth a thousand kreutzers."

"I don't ask it on my estates; I offer better security."

"Security! good-good!" said the Jew eagerly. "On what security, excellency!"

Hush!" I replied; "it is nothing. See, here Isaac, and I will satisfy the delicate scruples of thy comes the light." coffers, for conscience thou hast none. I am going to be married in the spring."

A bright line of radiance streamed under the door, the woman entered with a lamp in her hand: it was Rebecca Leo! She placed her finger on her lips I bowed my head in assent, In an instant he was to stay the exclamation that was rising to mine, gone. The day dragged heavily on, and every hour and pressing my cold cheek to hers, whispered: seemed longer than the last. It rained and the rain "Yes; this is my father's house, Alice. Would was mingled with snow. At six I repaired to my that you had never crossed its threshold for this own appartments, to receive him when he should purpose? You must stand here, in the window. arrive. I tried to read; but it was in vain. I could I will draw the curtains before you, and there only pace the room, and look out from the blurred you will hear all without the chance of discowindows on the dark wet gardens, and listen to the very." sweeping wind and rain. A sensation of vague terror crept over me; and when the town clocks chimed the hour I listened to their harsh tongues as they had been the tongues of fate. Another dreary halfhour crept away; I heard the bell rung, and the courtyard gate half opened—a familiar voice spoke my name-a quick foot sounded on the stairs.

Precisely so, friend Isaac. To a penniless singer, who will be to me one of the greatest fortunes in Germany."

"Hein!" exclaimed the Jew, drawing a long breath between his teeth.

"Art thou aware, my friend, that this girl has the finest voice in Germany?—that she will create a madness, a furor ?-that she will be worth at the "What does this mean?" I cried. "What hor-very least, a hundred thousand florins a year to me, rid secret am I to listen to? Let me go-let me her husband and your debtor?" go?"

"It is too late," said Rebecca, turning suddenly away and listening earnestly; "there is my father's ring at the door-hide, hide quickly! for my sake, Alice-for my sake!"—and she half led, half drag

"I am late, Fraulein Alice," said the chapel-mas-ged me into the recess. ter, as he entered hastily and closed the door behind Herr Stolberg came and stood beside me, and him; "and there is no time to be lost. You must Rebecca drew the heavy folds, so that they fell go out with me for an hour." He was palc, very from ceiling to floor, and shrouded us utterly from pale; the snow and rain were trickling from his sight. cloak upon the floor, and his black locks hung in wet masses upon his sallow cheeks.

I wrapped a heavy shawl round me, drew a close bonnet and veil over my face. "I am ready," I said. We went down the stairs and passed the door of Madame Kloss's room. "Shall I not tell madame?" I asked, as we went by. He shook his head hurried me across the wet court-yard, and through the gates into the street. The porter stared inquisitively, and touched his hat as we passed by.

"Stay there; move not, breathe not," she said, as she turned to go. "God help you, my poor Alice!"

The kiss she gave me covered my lips and cheek with tears. Rebecca weeping, and for me? I pressed my hands rigidly upon my breast, and stood still waiting, as if for death. My companion spoke no word, and for some minutes I heard but the sound of his breathing. Then the opening and shutting of distant doors, the tread of feet along the hall, and the sound of a low querulous voice, as the persons entered the room in which we were concealed.

Although it was so early, none were stirring in the streets save a few soldiers and market-women. The churches looked tall and dim, and the thick rain "More money-more money! always money!" came steadily down. Through many dark by-ways said the voice with a Jewish accent and an impaand narrow turnings we went. The chapel-master tient sigh. There was a rustling of papers on the

"And is this your security, excellency?"

Truly it is: can you wish a better?"

"Bah! it is a folly. The girl may fail, may change her mind, and refuse you. I cannot lend my florins upon the phantom of a security."

"But I tell you she loves me, as only girls and women love, friend Isaac. She would die-toillose her very soul for me. She is entirely mine. Your money is as safe as though it were in your own strong-boxes. Name your own rate of interset, and take my bond at once. Money I must and will have. Without it, I cannot even marry suitably, and the stake is worth the trust. Come, Isaac -a thousand florins at two hundred per cent., to be paid in six months! Can you refuse?"

"A thousand florins! it is a great deal, excellency."

"I have not ten left to keep me from now till then. The cards and colors have been against me lately. It is fate. Die Hölle, Isaac, you must give it to me!"

"But you will be here again, excellency, before a week is past. The gaming-table will swallow every stiver. I dare not lend."

The answer was low and indistinct; the Jew

seemed still to remonstrate, Theodore to asseverate and entreat. Then there was the rustling of more papers, the quick scratching of a pen, the ring of gold

"Friend Isaac, thou art a treasure of a moneylender," said the mocking voice and the cruel laugh --"a very demigod to a lover in distress. Cupid

himself smiles on thee for this."

"You a lover, excellency!" said the Jew with a short hard cough. "The lady of your affections must have charms indeed! I have heard of her from one who knows her, else I should not have trusted your version of her talents. She is pretty,

I am told."

"I do not come here to talk of beauty and fair dames, friend Isaac," laughed the creditor, chinking some coins together in his hand. "She is young, credulous, and clever-that is enough for our purpose. Pretty!-know'st thou the complexion of my mistress, Isaac?"

"Not I, excellency!"

"Red and black, friend Jew-rouge et noir ! Good-night! ha, ha! good-night!"

Their steps died away along the passage; doors

set him as a saint upon the altar of my inner world,
and blindly worshipped him! And now-what was
left me but to die?

upon

I was sitting, fixed and tearless, as these thoughts
formed themselves in my mind; my eyes fell
a folded paper on the table. Ha! the letter the
letter from Paris! My resolution was taken in an
instant: a fresh energy, the energy of despair, came
to my assistance. "I will go," said I firmly. I
took pen and paper calmly from my desk, and
wrote to Herr Stolberg, acquainting him with
resolution; wrote a formal resignation of my ap-
pointment in the ducal chapel, and went to my bed-
chamber and commenced packing.

my

without seeing a single face, or hearing a single sound, that could claim any fellowship of old association with me. I was alone in my grief in the great city. The language was unfamiliar, though not unknown to me; and my heart yearned again for the studious seclusion of my old home in Germany, and the sweet sounds of my adopted tongue.

The manager of the Opera House, M. Lecroix, waited upon me the day after my arrival. He was a Frenchman, but had been educated at Munich with his friend the chapel-master of Schwartzenfelden: he spoke German fluently. It was so pleasant to me to hear him utter it! He was grave, polite, and even friendly. He did not remain long, for he could see that I was suffering; and attributing it to the fatigue of my long journey, withdrew very shortly, after having arranged with me to visit the theatre on the morrow for the first rehearsal.

It went off favorably. The novelty and excitement of the scene revived me for a time. I returned to my hotel, and applied myself carnestly to the study of my part. Thus a fortnight passed away. We

ALONE, alone upon the road! Night and dark- had daily rehearsals; my time and my mind were ness around. No moon, no stars. Rain- occupied, my former ambition was aroused, the heavy

shut and opened again; the room was left in dark-driving, pitiless rain, streaming down the narrow weight still lay upon my heart, but its sting was not windows of the coach, and dimming the pale light so sharp. I could think of Theodore now with pity, ness; and all was still. I did not weep; I did not of the lamps outside. Not a sound save the howl- and with less despair. I grew daily paler and speak; I did not die. My hands were locked and cold; my lips were stony; my brain burned. Iing wintry wind among the woods, the hoarse thinner; but by degrees I found that I entered more stood still-still and speechless. The world seemed shouts of the postilions, the creaking vehicle, the immediately into the events and scenes around me. crumbling away beneath my feet. Life-death-heavy wheels, and the monotonous trampling of the The night of performance was at length announced, and my name appeared in the bills and daily journals as the new prima donna. The opera was Gustavus.

love! what were they all but words? I felt my hands grasped, and my brow kissed twice or thrice; I heard an anguished voice cry: "Alice, Alice, my friend, my sister, look up-speak-weep! Do not stand thus; it drives me mad!" I heard it; but it fell dully on my ear, and woke no echo in my soul. Then there came a light; a withdrawal of the curtains; a woman's gentle voice, that drew me from the arms of him who held me, to a sisterly embrace. Her tears wept down upon my cheeks, and then the deadly frost all suddenly gave way: I uttered low moan, and fell in an agony of despair upon the

floor.

For some time

horses.

There was no passenger inside the diligence but myself; no human friendly voice to breathe one When the day came I was strangely excited; not comforting word to the weeping desolate singer with grief, not with terror, but with a kind of wild crouched and trembling in the corner. Her Stol- delight that was half misery. I felt within myself a berg had seen me to the coach-office, and had ridden strong foreboding of success; I longed to win fame perhaps a mile with me on the road. But he had and riches, not for myself, ah, no! but that Theodore scarcely spoken to me all the time, and as he bade might hear of my triumph, might lament the heart he me farewell, and got out to walk back again in the had lost, might blush for his own baseness! As the dark, wet night, his voice was broken; and my hour of performance neared, my emotions became a hands, where he had kissed them, were wetted with almost uncontrollable. I seemed to tread upon air; his tears. True friend! true, noble, and sincere! my cheeks were flushed, my heart beat high, my How lightly had I estimated that heart; how little pulse throbbed rapidly, my breast seemed to dilate, had I appreciated the deep feeling and chivalric ten-and my voice to strengthen within me. derness that lay beneath that rough exterior! The voice might be harsh, but it was capable of framing tones of gentlest consolation; the eye might be stern, but it could weep for pity. When I needed him not, he had been proud and cold to me; in the day of danger, he had rescued me; in the time of trouble,

How long I continued thus, or how I was removed, I know not; but I suppose I must have fainted, for my next consciousness found me again in the academy, with Madame Kloss and Rebecca bathing my hands and brow, and with Herr Stolberg bending earnestly above me. I could not recall the dreadful past, but when I did, that memory was mercifully accompanied by tears. They were so good to me, so gentle ! For hours and hours they never left my side, and it was nearly day-dawn before they thought me calm enough to be left alone. I felt as if all were night-past, present, future. Nothing around me, nothing before me but darkness; darkness unlighted by a single star.

And through all this their reigned one feverish desire, which gained every moment in intensity-a restless craving to escape from the scene of my wo, from the face of the traitor! A longing to be far, far away from-oh, not misery! but the place where its cross was inflicted upon me. Away! away! from the scenes of my youth and my false happiness. What was that youth now to me? what that brief sunshine? I was deceived, brokenhearted, sold! I had taken him for an angel; I ha

he had aided and comforted me.

"Ah, mademoiselle, you must succeed," said the manager with a glance of delighted surprise as I entered the green-room to await my call to the stage: 'you have the air of Jeanne d'Arc going forth to conquer." I smiled at the compliment: I conversed with those around me; I felt myself transformed into another creature, and utterly unlike the silent O fearful journey! I seem now to remember singer who had passed through the rehearsals in cold little of it, save a long succession of weary stages; reserve and absent melancholy. I saw the others the changes of day and night; the arrival and depar-look from one to another with amazement, and then ture of many passengers; the toilsome, unresisting back again to me. I caught a glimpse of my face in motion; the heavy weight of unconquerable distress. At last came the passing of frontiers, the transition from German to Dutch, from Dutch to French. Then a difference, scarcely observed by me, in the aspect of the country-towns, villages, rivers, hills, and forests; then a city with long narrow streets, and high white houses; soldiers, custom-house officers, the examination of passports and luggage.

was in Paris.

I

The hotel was vast, and my rooms overlooked a handsome street, whence I gazed out for hours in a tate of dreamy melancholy upon the throngs of ehicles, soldiers, and gaily-dressed foot-passengers,

a mirror as I passed, and I scarcely recognised the glowing cheeks, the flashing eyes, the haughty carriage and triumphant lip for my own countenance.

The first act passed away with moderate applause. Rubini, as Gustavus, was received cordially; but the audience was quiet, and the whole of this act is somewhat uninteresting. There was a pause; the second act commenced; and it is now my turn to appear as Amelia, the wife of the courtier Ankastrom, who seeks the abode of the prophetess to purchase from her a philter which may quench her unhappy attachment for Gustavus.

Mademoiselle is called," said M. Lecroix.

I went. I had no sooner appeared in the far gloom Then that deeply-wrought scene of doubt and of the apartment, than a burst of applause seemed to passion-the struggle of honor, friendship, fidelity, shake the very air around me. I advanced, and and wildest love, on which the curtain falls! bowed; it was repeated again and again, in three Another long roar of approbation from the house; distinct rounds. I trembled, but I did not fear. The I am led forward; bouquets fall around me; the footlights blinded me; they seemed to interpose a dazzling effect of the lights has worn away. I see curtain of light between

the audience and myself-I could not see an inch beyond the stage. The stage-it was the first time I had ever appeared there, yet I scarcely seemed to feel it strange. I breathed freely, I felt glad and strong; but I assumed the trembling tone and shrinking attitude of the high-born lady in the fortune-teller's murky den. I implored her aid; my changing countenance depicted alternating terror, love, courage, despair. The prophetess declares that I must seck that dreadful spot beyond the citywalls where stands the scaffold, and there gather a certain mystic herb. I dread, I waver, I consent. The crowd rushes in, and I fly from the

scene.

There was another burst of applause, but the chorus instantly began, and my share in that act was concluded.

Another brief pause, and the curtain rose again. It was a strangely solemn scene, and marvellously painted: a black desert heath near Stockholm, treeless and houseless. Two mossy columns united at the top by an iron bar, rise darkly in the midst of the stage; these answer the purpose of a gibbet, and the ghastly chains yet hang from them in

which the criminals are

toxication. I advanced from ono side, Gustavus from the other.

But the king was closely followed by a figure in a black domino. My eyes were suddenly rivetted on this man. I had seen him before, and yetHe held his plumed hat in his hand, and his light curling masses of hair contrasted strongly with the sable vizor. Some strange feeling came over me; my heart stood still, my breath failed me, I felt suffocated.

It was now my part to address Gustavus. The prompter gave the word, the whole stage waited for me. I tried to shake off the feeling that bound my utterance-I compelled myself to advance. The stranger stepped suddenly to my side, and removing his mask,"Alice!" he said, in a suppressed, stern tone, "I love you-I cannot live without you. Were it to the end of the world, I must follow you!"

Oh, God! that voice -that voice again! I saw his pallid face, and wild bright eyes! The crowded stage, the glaring lights, the throng of faces in the theatre -all swam round before me. I uttered one piercing cry, and fell senseless to the ground.

FOR

VIII.

OR many days after this event, my life remains a blank. The destruction of all my hopes, the rapid journey, the false excitement, and the shock I had received upon the stage, had been too much for my physical

a vast crowd of upturned faces, and many are in and mental strength. I was seized with a raging tears.

"Ah, mademoiselle," says M. Lecroix, kissing my hand in a frenzy of delight, "I never knew so splendid a success."

fever and delirium.

suspended. I come slowly forward to seek, in that terrible solitude, the plant whose virtue is oblivion. The house was silent from a feeling of awe; and in After an interval that seemed to me as many the opening recitative, the first notes of my voice, months as it was days, I woke one morning, as if imploring courage from Heaven, seemed to wander from sleep, and found myself in bed. At first I had tremblingly round the space, and then to die away in Then came a magnificent scene, representing no recollection of what had passed; I fancied mygrief and terror. I advance, recede, advance again, the ball-room with its flowers, its myriads of self once more in Germany. I tried to rise, but I and stoop to pluck the fatal leaves from the foot variegated lamps, its vistas of gilded columns, found myself without the power to move! I was of the column. The distant clocks tell the hour of and its crowds of dancers with their joyous alarmed; I looked round; the room was strange midnight. I cannot pluck the herb-I love! Yet, voices, their rich costumes, and black velvet and yet I had seen it before. There was a table great Heaven, guide and strengthen me! I will masks. The giddy galop whirled them on to its near the bed, with some medicine phials and winegather it. I turn again, and see the king! mad merriment; all was confusion splendor, in-glasses; a fire burnt in the grate, and the blinds

were drawn carefully down, subduing the apartment hither in a carriage, and placed in bed. Madame
to a pleasant darkness. I saw I had been ill. I was delirious-her ravings were terrible. This
closed my eyes, and suddenly it came again before lasted three weeks, and madame's life was nearly
me-the theatre, the Opera, all were remembered. despaired of. To-day, madame is saved, and her
Silent tears stole gently down my cheeks as I lay friend is happy!"
thinking.

Madame'sly, and three weeks elapsed before I could leave my bedroom. One day, Pierrette came smiling into the chamber "There has been another gentleman this morning inquiring at the gate for the news of madame! He trusts that madame will receive him le plus tôt que possible!

Pierrette," was my reply. "Leave word with the concierge, that I shall be happy to to receive the gentleman at two o'clock in the day."

So it was the manager, wishing, of course, to have me resume my engagement. I was sorry to be the cause of such confusion and loss as my illness must have occasioned, and I felt desirous of resuming my duties as soon as I dare venture. I could not resist the impulse that came upon me to try my voice once more, and for the first time in six long weeks I left the sick-chamber and entered the salon. I sat down to the instrument, and played the opening symphony of a little German song that he had often loved to listen to. I tried to sing. Could it be a weakness? could it be emotion? not a note came! Again I tried; again, again! Alas! it must be so! my voice, my glorious, my beautiful voice was utterly gone! My head dropped upon my hands; I leaned forward upon the instrument, and sobbed aloud.

It was a great sorrow; but I had Theodore still and that night I prayed for strength and comfort, and felt that what I had lost was more than compensated to me in his love.

manager, and then turning to her, "Pierrette," I said, "I wish to go into the country for a few months. Will you accompany me!"

near to die! Who, then, had been that one whose
"Alas!" I
life so appeared to hang upon mine?
said bitterly, "then it was not thou !"
He asked my meaning, and I told him all. He "To the country, madame? At this time of the
had for some moments no reply to give. With down-year? Ah, the country in February is so triste!"
"Not to me. I have been used to see it, and
cast eye and teeth that gnawed his lip, he heard me
Will you go with
through in silence, and then strove to stammer some love it in all changes of season
He also had been ill-his fortunes me or not, Pierrette?"
faint excuses.
were embarrassed, and he had been occupied in law
matters-he had repeatedly inquired for me; but,
doubtless, the porter had omitted to name his visits.
I looked steadily at him, and in that look the truth
became plain to my eyes, and the love passed away
from my heart. I doubted him, and distrust cannot
dwell with love; for love is all-believing! I felt
myself become steeled to him, and I resolved to put
his protestations to the proof.

"And do you still love me, Theodore?" I said.
"Heaven is my witness," he exclaimed, "that
you are dearer to me at this moment than you ever
were before."

"And you love me for myself and my heart
only?"

"For thyself, for thy gentleness, for thy woman's heart!"

"I have been deprived of it but a little sooner," I argued with myself. "Age must have brought this calamity, though more slowly. It is but a few years “And if I were poor-poor of my only advanless-a feverish dream of fame which I have awak-tages-if I had even no voice to recommend me— ened ere it reached the end-God is just and wise- no voice to delight your ear and to earn riches for His will be done!" my husband?"

been no bouquet for the last two mornings.

Then wouldst thou be dearer still, my own love! dearer in thy privation, dearer if dependent solely

on my arm."

I have lost my voice!"

In the morning I felt calm, nay, almost cheerful. "Auguste tells me, madame," said Pierrette," that the fair gentleman has called again, and when he received your message, said that he should kiss your "It is well, Theodore," I said very calmly, as I hands punctually at the time appointed." fixed the same unwavering glance upon him, "for "And the other gentleman ?" I asked, for there had such indeed is my condition. The fever has dealt hardly with me. He was once more kneeling at my feet; but when said these words, he rose, and turned deadly pale He could not believe me; he looked at me, yet seemed grave and in earnest. He tried to force a smile. "You are jesting with me, my love." “Indeed, no," I replied; "my voice is irrevocably gone. I shall never sing again."

"The other monsieur has not called, madame, for two days. When he last called, Auguste told him that madame was greatly better, and would soon receive; but monsieur only sighed, and turned away hastily He has not called since "

"And he has never left either card or message?" "Never, madame."

This delicacy touched me more nearly than all his devotion. Poor Theodore! he feared, then, to approach me; he dared not to intrude his love, or even his repentance, upon me!

Two o'clock approached. I almost dreaded the visit of M. Lecroix, for I shrunk from telling him that my career was closed; that I had no voice to sing for him!

Pierrette came hastily in: "He is approaching, madame-the fair monsieur who called yesterday! I see him in the courtyard."

There were steps on the staircase-a low tap at the door-Pierette opened it, and admitted-THEO

I

I

He dropped into a chair; the very power of dissimulation seemed to leave him; his cheeks and lips became livid. I could almost have pitied his dismay, but for the scorn with which his baseness inspired me.

Ho started, rose, and pressing his hand to his
forehead, pleaded a sudden illness, and begged per-
mission to retire for a few moments till he should
feel recovered. He advanced as if to embrace me.

I drew back with undisguised contempt; but he
seized my hand, touched it with his lips-and they
were icy cold-bowed profoundly, and hastened
from the room.

"O with you, ma chère madame-with you anywhere!"

So we consulted about the best place to choose. She named many in the neighborhood of ParisVille d'Avray, Asnieres, Argenteuil, St. Germain ; but it ended in my leaving the choice to herself, and she was to go out the next day and seek some retreat for me.

Evening came. I sat beside the fire, and formed a plan for my future life. I resolved to spend some months in the country till my health was thoroughly restored, and then to seek the situation of governess in some French or English family.

"A letter for madame," said Pierrette, entering and disturbing my reverie.

I opened it, and red it by the firelight Theodore's writing!-what had he to say to me? I was to be But no-this ran in duped no longer by false—

a different strain. He regretted my loss and his own poverty; he had no wish to drag me down to want; he felt that the most generous part would be to resign me. I was free-he was for ever unhappy, he wished me all forgetfulness of my devoted ser

vant, Theodore von Bachhoffen.

Generous! generous indeed! And so this was the end-the end of that golden dream of truth and love! One tear fell on the paper: it was the last lingering weakness of my heart.

I crushed the

letter in my hand, and cast it into the flames. It
blazed and writhed, turned to a black charred sub-
stance lighter than the very air, and fell away in
dust. I looked up, and saw Pierrette still standing
there, and gazing fixedly upon me. There was a
"You are waiting to
curious meaning in her face.
say something to me?" I asked.
"No-yes; that is-I have heard of a residence
for madame."

"Indeed!" I said, "and where is it, Pierrette ?"
"At Bellevue, madame, near Sévere. I have a
cousin there who owns a house in a charming situa-

“I fear,” said I haughtily, "that your excellency tion-and—and it is at madame's service for as many months as she may please to reside there." is disappointed. " "This is indeed delightful, Pierrette," I said smiling; " and when shall we go there?" "To-morrow, if madame pleases, or the next day." So I fixed the next day, as I thought I should then be stronger for the journey. During all the time that intervened, Pierrette was in a state of uncontrollable excitement. She laughed, danced, chattered, and seemed beside herself with joy. She seemed Traitor that he was! I felt too much indignation frequently on the point of saying something, and as to be moved either to grief or to compassion. My often checked herself. When I questioned her, sho pride was wounded, but my heart untouched. I sat parried my inquiries by saying that she had prepared a down and wrote immediately to M. Lecroix. My little surprise for me at Bellevue-but she would not letter was brief and decisive. I told him all-how tell-no, not for the world! The morning came at my voice was gone, and my theatrical career conse-length. I had thought much of "this poor monsieur" I expressed my regret for his dis-of whom Pierrette had told me; but since the evequently ended appointment, and announced my intention of speed- ning I had received the letter from the baron, she had remained uncomfortably silent whenever I had ily quitting Paris.

I rang for Pierrette, despatched my letter to the spoken of him. Before we left the hotel, I gave her