before the altar and
listened to and uttered the words that made me a wife. Every syllable,
every intonation, of the minister's voice is branded on my memory as
with a red-hot iron: 'Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband,
to live together after God's ordinance, in the holy estate of
matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, serve him, love, honor, and keep him,
in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keep thee only
unto him, so long as ye both shall live?' And there, before the altar,
with the stained glass making a rainbow behind the pulpit, I answered,
'_I will_.' Oh, Dr. Grey, pity me! pity me!"

A cry of anguish escaped her, and she extended her arms until her
hands rested on her companion's shoulder.

In silence he bent his head, and put his lips to the tightly clasped
fingers.

"Tell me, sir,--if that vow means that man may make a plaything of
God's statutes? If it binds for one hour, does it not bind while life
lasts?"

"'_So long as ye both shall live_,'" answered Dr. Grey, solemnly; and
he gently removed her hand, and drew himself a little farther from
her.

She was too painfully engrossed by sad reminiscences to notice the
action, and resumed her narrative.

"There was a gay party at the breakfast, and I could not remove my
fascinated eyes from the radiant face of my husband, who had never
seemed half so princely as now, when he was wholly my own. Once he
bent his handsome head to mine, and whispered, '_La Peregrina_,' the
pet name he had given me, because he averred that, in his estimation,
my love was worth as many ducats as that celebrated pearl of Philip.
'_La Peregrina_,' indeed! Ah! he melted it in gall and hemlock, and
drained it at his wedding feast. My heart was so overflowing with
happiness that I slipped my fingers into his, and, in answer to his
fond epithet, whispered, 'Maurice, my king.'"

The speaker was silent for a moment, and an expression of disgust and
scorn usurped the place of mournfulness.

"Dr. Grey, I deserved my punishment, for no Aztec ever worshipped his
stone God more devoutly than I did my black-eyed, smooth-lipped idol.
'Thou shalt have no other gods before me.' Ah! my 'graven image'
seemed so marvellously godlike that I bowed down before it; and there,
in the midst of my adoration, the curse of idolatry smote me. Half
bewildered by the rapture that made my heart throb almost to
suffocation, I stole away from the guests and hid myself in the small
hot-house