er dwarf and shrivel my soul by the
cowardly process of mendacity. Mr. Minge, had I been a trifle less
honest and true than I find myself, I might have impaired my
self-respect by trifling."

"Forgive me, Salome, if the pain I endure rendered me harsh or unjust.
My dearest, I did not intend to wound you, but indeed you are cruel
sometimes."

"Yes; truth is the most savagely cruel of all rude, jagged weapons,
and leaves ugly gashes and quivering nerves exposed, and these are the
hurts that never cicatrize--that gape and bleed while the heart throbs
to feed them."

"Tell me candidly whether the heart I covet belongs to that Mr.
Granville, who paid you such devoted attention in Paris."

A short, scornful, mirthless laugh rang sharply on the air, and
turning quickly, Salome exclaimed contemptuously,--

"I said I loved a man,--a true, honest, brave, noble man,--not that
perfumed, unprincipled, vain, foppish automaton, who adorns a corner
of the diplomatic apartment where _attaches_ of the American embassy
'most do congregate'! Gerard Granville is unworthy of any woman's
affection, for maugre the indisputable fact that he is betrothed to a
fond, trusting girl, now in the United States, he had the effrontery
to attempt to offer his addresses to me. If an honest man be the
noblest work of God, then, beyond all peradventure, the disgrace of
creation is centred in an unscrupulous one, such as I have the honor
to pronounce Mr. Granville."

Seizing her hands, Mr. Minge carried them forcibly to his lips, and
said, in a voice that faltered from intensity of feeling,--

"Is it the hope that your love is reciprocated which bars your heart
so sternly against my pleadings? Spare me no pangs,--tell me all."

She freed her fingers from his grasp, and retreating a few steps,
answered with a passionate mournfulness which he never forgot,--

"If I were dowered with that precious hope, not all the crown jewels
in Christendom and Heathendom could purchase it. Not the proudest
throne on that continent of empires that lies yonder to the north,
could woo me one hour from the only kingdom where I could happily
reign,--the heart of the man I love. No--no--no! That hope is as
distant as the first star up there above us, which has rent the blue
veil of heaven to gaze pityingly at me; and I would as soon expect to
catch that silver sparkle and fold it in my arms as dream that my
affection could ever be returned. The only man I shall ever lov