t she knew would find her fair, and pleasant to look
upon. As she turned away from the mirror a sunbeam streamed in through
her window, and she could not resist the temptation to open the casement
and put her pretty head out, to see what view there might be from it.
She looked down into a narrow, deserted alley, with the wall of the
hotel on one side and that of the garden opposite on the other, so high
that it reached above the tops of the trees within. From her window she
could look down into this garden, and see, quite at the other end of it,
the large mansion it belonged to, whose lofty, blackened walls testified
to its antiquity. Two gentlemen were walking slowly, arm in arm,
along one of the broad paths leading towards the house, engrossed in
conversation; both were young and handsome, but they were scarcely of
equal rank, judging by the marked deference paid by one, the elder, to
the other.

We will call this friendly pair Orestes and Pylades for the present,
until we ascertain their real names. The former was about one or two and
twenty, and remarkably handsome and distinguished--strikingly so--with
a very white skin, intensely black hair and eyes, a tall, slender, lithe
figure, shown to advantage by the rich costume of tan-coloured velvet
he wore; and well-formed feet, with high, arched insteps, small and
delicate enough for a woman's--that more than one woman had envied
him--encased in dainty, perfectly fitting boots, made of white Russia
leather. From the careless ease of his manners, and the haughty grace of
his carriage, one would readily divine that he was a great noble; one
of the favoured few of the earth, who are sure of being well received
everywhere, and courted and flattered by everybody. Pylades, though
a good-looking fellow enough, with auburn hair and mustache, was
not nearly so handsome or striking, either in face or figure, as his
companion. They were talking of women; Orestes declaring himself a
woman-hater from that time forward, because of what he was pleased to
call the persecutions of his latest mistress, of whom he was thoroughly
tired--no new thing with him--but who would not submit to be thrown
aside, like a cast-off glove, without making a struggle to regain the
favour of her ci-devant admirer. He was anathematizing the vanity,
treachery, and deceitfulness of all women, without exception, from the
duchess down to the dairy-maid, and declaring that he should renounce
their society altoge