t down over it, and wept. The utter misery of sorrow
is only felt where self-reproach mingles with our regrets. All the pangs
of other misfortunes are light in comparison with this. The irrevocable
past was her own work; she knew it, and cried till her very heart seemed
bursting.

CHAPTER IX. SECRETS OF HEAD AND HEART

I must ask of my reader to leave this chamber, where, overwhelmed by
her sorrows, poor Kate poured out her grief in tears, and follow me to a
small but brilliantly lighted apartment, in which a little party of four
persons was seated, discussing their wine, and enjoying the luxury of
their cigars. Be not surprised when we say that one of the number was a
lady. Madame de Heidendorf, however, puffed her weed with all the zest
of a smoker; the others were the Archduke Ernest, a plain, easy-tempered
looking man, in the gray undress of an Austrian General, the Foreign
Minister, Count Norinberg, and our old acquaintance, the Abbe D'Esmonde.

The table, besides the usual ornaments of a handsome dessert, was
covered with letters, journals, and pamphlets, with here and there a
colored print in caricature of some well-known political personage.
Nothing could be more easy and unconstrained than the air and bearing
of the guests. The Archduke sat with his uniform coat unbuttoned, and
resting one leg upon a chair before him. The Minister tossed over
the books, and brushed off the ashes of his cigar against the richly
damasked table-cloth; while even the Abbe seemed to have relaxed the
smooth urbanity of his face into a look of easy enjoyment Up to this
moment the conversation had been general, the principal topics being
the incidents of the world of fashion, the flaws and frivolities, the
mishaps and misadventures of those whose names were familiar to his
Imperial Highness, and in whose vicissitudes he took the most lively
interest. These, and a stray anecdote of the turf in England, were the
only subjects he cared for, hating politics and State affairs with a
most cordial detestation. His presence, however, was a compliment that
the Court always paid "the Countess," and he submitted to his torn of
duty manfully.

Deeply involved in the clouds of his cigar-smoke, and even more
enveloped in the misty regions of his own reveries, he sipped his
wine in silence, and heard nothing of the conversation about him. The
Minister was then perfectly free to discuss the themes most interesting
to him, and learn whatever