ate--to be what I am not, and not to be what I am!"

And with a shrill cry of agony she tore her hair, and with her fist
smote upon her breast, and wept and moaned aloud.

She heard naught; she saw naught; she felt naught but her inexpressible
and despairing anguish.

She did not once tremble for herself; she thought not at all of
this--that she would be lost if she were found in this place.

And yet at the other side of the room a door had opened, softly and
noiselessly, and a man had entered.

He shut the door behind him and walked up to Lady Jane, who still lay
on the floor. He stood behind her while she uttered her despairing
lamentation. He heard every word of her quivering lips; her whole heart
painfully convulsed and torn with grief lay unveiled before him; and she
knew it not.

Now he bent over her; and with his hand he lightly touched her shoulder.
At this touch she gave a convulsive start, as if hit by the stroke of a
sword, and her sobbing was immediately silenced.

An awful pause ensued. The woman lay on the floor motionless,
breathless, and near her, tall and cold as a figure of bronze, stood the
man.

"Lady Jane Douglas," said he then, sternly and solemnly, "stand up. It
becomes not your father's daughter to be upon her knees, when it is not
God to whom she kneels. But you are not kneeling to God, but to an idol,
which you yourself have made, and to which you hate erected a temple in
your heart. This idol is called 'Your own personal misfortune.' But it
is written, 'Thou shalt have no other Gods but me.' Therefore I say to
you once more, Lady Jane Douglas, rise from your knees, for it is not
your God to whom you kneel."

And as though these words exercised a magnetic power over her, she
raised herself up slowly from the floor, and now stood there before her
father, stern and cold as a statue of marble.

"Cast from you the sorrows of this world, which burden you, and hinder
you in the sacred work which God has imposed on you!" continued Earl
Douglas in his metallic, solemn voice. "It is written, 'Come unto Me,
all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest,' saith
our God. But you, Jane, you are to throw down your trouble at the foot
of the throne; and your burden will become a crown that will glorify
your head."

He laid his hand on her head, but she wildly shook it off.

"No," cried she, with heavy, faltering tongue, as if confused in a
dream. "Away with this crown! I wish