hing more," he answered.

And while her heart retained its homage, the light in her eyes was
veiled.

Married but not acknowledged! Would it not have been better if the
avalanche had overwhelmed them? She almost thought so, till bending, he
murmured in her ear:

"I shall follow you soon. Did you think I could go on living without
you?"

* * * * *

"Why so thoughtful, Ermentrude? You are not quite yourself to-day?"

"Uncle is very ill. The doctors say that he may not live a month."

"And does that grieve you?"

A yes was on her lips, but she did not utter it. Instead, she drew a
little ribbon from her breast, on which hung a plain gold ring, and
gazing earnestly at this token she remarked very quietly:

"Carleton, have you ever thought that but for this ring no proof remains
in all this world of our ever having been married?"

"But our hearts know it. Is that not enough?" he asked.

"For to-day, yes. But when uncle goes...."

His kisses finished the sentence for her, and love resumed its sway; but
when alone and wakeful on her pillow, she recalled his look, the sting of
her first doubt darted through her uneasy heart, and feeling eagerly
after the ring she tore it from its ribbon and put it on her finger.

"It is my right," she whispered. "Henceforth I shall wear it. He loves me
too well to quarrel with my decision. Now am I really his wife."

* * * * *

Did she see a change in him? Did he come less frequently? Did he stay
less long? Was there uneasiness in his eye--coolness--languor? No, no.
It was her exacting heart which thus interpreted his look--which counted
the days--forgot his many engagements--saw impatience in the quickness
with which he corrected her faults in manner or language instead of the
old indulgence which met each error with a smile. Love cannot always keep
at fever-heat. He, the cynosure of the whole foreign element, had the
world at his feet here as in Lucerne. It needed no jealous eye to see
this; while she--well, she had her attractions too, as had been often
proved, and with God's help she would yet be a fit mate for him. What she
now lacked, she would acquire. She would watch these fine ladies who
blushed with pleasure at his approach, and when her time of mourning was
over she would astonish him with her graces and her appearance. For she
knew how to dress, yes, with the best of them, and hold her head and walk
like