the bust, displaying an under
vest of thin white gauze gathered in maidenly modesty over her lovely
bosom, and fastened by a magnificent cluster of diamonds and rubies. A
_talpec_, or head-dress, of white velvet, around which were wound two
rows of the finest pearls, was placed low on her pale brow, from which
her beautiful hair fell in long natural ringlets, looped here and
there with sprigs of the white jasmine and orange buds.

Gently the wind swayed the orange boughs, and creeping through the
flowery links of the jessamine and passa-flora, kissed the pale cheek
of Mildred as she sat there in her misery--twilight stole on with
saddened step, and from out the cloudless heavens one by one the stars
looked down upon her wretchedness. Then over the distant mountains
rose up the full-orbed moon, bathing their summits with gladness and
flooding the valleys with calm and holy light. On she came, majestic
and serene, o'er her glorious path, and as her mild beams quivered
through the thick clustering blossoms around the window they touched
the heart of Mildred as the smile of angels. Throwing open the
jalousie she stepped into the veranda, and leaning over the balustrade
gazed upon the peaceful landscape stretching before her in all the
chastened loveliness of the moonlight.

There was something in the scene which brought with it the "light of
other days" to her sad heart. For a few brief moments she was
happy--present sorrows lost themselves in past pleasures. Once more
upon the ivy-clad battlements of Norcross Hall she was standing with
Helen and Rupert, while the scene upon which the moon looked down
identified itself with the woods and dells of that beloved spot. Her
bright dream was brief--the voice of Perozzi in loud and angry
altercation with some one awoke her too rudely to her misery.

"O, Rupert!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands in agony as she turned
to re-enter her chamber--"Rupert, farewell--farewell forever!"

"Dearest Mildred!" cried a voice whose tones leaped into her heart
with a strange thrill of joy--"dearest Mildred!"

Did she still dream--or was it indeed Rupert to whose breast she was
now folded with a bliss too great for words!

"Thank God, Rupert, you have come!" cried Mildred.

"Mildred," said Rupert, (for it was indeed Rupert,) "what mean these
tears? Are you not happy--this marriage--"

"A--h!" shrieked Mildred, clinging to him as though the basilisk hand
of Perozzi were already upon her