y little head sat
most proudly upon the daintiest, softest, whitest neck and bosom you
ever saw. Two deep wells of light and love were her eyes, revealing
every feeling of her beautiful soul. When she was sad, they looked
out, half shut, through their long shining lashes, dewy, dark and
tender; and when her mood grew merry, they danced in very joy. None
yet agreed on their color. One would have sworn they were the softest,
warmest brown--he saw them only when they were looking love, and he
was--but of him anon. Another would have told you they were pure,
clear blue--but he was the Lady Isoleth's confessor, with her when her
thoughts dwelt upon things holy. By turns were they violet and gray,
and all imaginable colors, in fact, except, indeed, green, or any
other such unrighteous shade that eyes sometimes take upon themselves.
Then her little, ripe, tempting mouth--ah! was it not just the mouth
one loves to kiss? small, dimpled, with soft, rose-red lips; and
tremulous ever--trembling with the love and gladness that filled her
young heart. Most beautiful was the Lady Isoleth of Fernheath.

CHAPTER II.

THE BIRTH-DAY.

"My lady!" exclaimed a bustling, good-natured little old body,
entering the room, which Wilhelm Gottfried, Baron of Arnhiem--the Lady
Isoleth's uncle and guardian--ever pleased himself with calling the
Lady Isoleth's menagerie, because, forsooth, the little lady delighted
herself with feeding and taming countless birds that had been brought
from all the known quarters of the globe. "My lady," spoke she, "do
you know that this is your ladyship's birth-day, that you this day
have arrived at an age which behooves you to put away childish things,
and take upon yourself the cares that belong--"

"You wise, dear little nurse! don't put on so much of the awful; don't
talk of care, you make me shiver at the bare idea.

"Where the bee sucks, there lurk I:
In the cowslip's bell I lie,
There I couch when owls do cry,
On the bat's back do I fly,
After summer merrily,
Merrily, merrily!"

And thus merrily sung the little airy Ariel, dancing around the room,
scarce touching the floor as she sung.

"Bless her light, little, happy heart! What a sin that love must come,
and with love, the self-loving, proud husband, that will bend that
bright will to his own; and then old age, and care, sure enough, and
wrinkles--and then that light, fairy-bounding step will be slow and
leaden, and th