f the peninsula. We
consulted guide-books and journals, and pictured to ourselves all the
delights of a happy journey. With what ecstasy she recalled the various
scenes of her former visit to Italy, and the names of those whose
friendship she had acquired, and with whom she longed to make me
acquainted! In her enthusiasm she seemed to recover her long-lost
buoyancy of heart, and to be of the same gay and happy nature I had
known her. I dare not trust myself with more of these memories; they
come upon me like the thought of those moments when on a sick bed some
dear friend has uttered words to be treasured up for years long,--words
of promise, mayhap words of hope, for a future that was never to come;
plans for a time that dark destiny had denied us!

Our arrangements were all completed, our passports procured, a courier
engaged, and everything in readiness for the road. We were to set out
on the following day. It was a Friday, and Margot's prejudices would not
permit her to begin a journey on such an inauspicious day. I reasoned
with her and argued earnestly, for I remembered it was on that night
Mademoiselle Leonie was to appear at the Francais. She was resolved,
however, to have her way, and I gave in. No allusion to the theatre, nor
to anything concerning it, had ever escaped either of us. By as it were
a tacit understanding, each avoided the theme as one only suggestive
of distressing memories; and then we had so many topics that were
delightful to talk over.

I went out early in the morning to make some purchases, some trifling
things we wanted for the road, and on my return I found Margot with
flushed face and feverish look rapidly walking to and fro in the
drawing-room. She tried to seem calm and composed as I entered, she even
made jest of her own agitation, and tried to laugh it off as a weakness
she was ashamed of; but her efforts were sad failures: her quivering lip
and trembling accents showed that deep agitation was at work within her.

"I cannot tell you, I will not tell you, what is the matter with me,"
said she, at last; "it would but lead to some rash outbreak of your
temper,--the very last thing I could endure at such a time. No, no; let
us go; let us leave Paris at once,--to-day, now, if you wish it; I am
ready."

This was impossible; all our arrangements had been made, and horses
ordered for the next day. My curiosity now became an agony, and I grew
almost angry at her continued refusal to satisf