ve you been reading Racine this morning? Or have you been studying
for the stage?" said Madame Dumesnil, in a cold, scornful tone. "You
are a good actress, certainly."

Pauline sank upon a chair, and her friend stood beside her, pressing
her trembling hand. Her mother advanced and stood before her.

"We will have no more of this, Pauline. If I feel satisfied that my
duty is done, you should rejoice in obeying me. I alone am the judge
in this matter--children should ever be contented with allowing their
parents to act for them; and allow me to say, that any interference of
strangers upon an occasion like this, is exceedingly misplaced."

This was aimed at Angela Percy; but she only replied by a wondering
and mournful gaze to the stern, cold woman before her. The old lady
proceeded.

"Bathe your eyes, Pauline, and arrange your hair. Monsieur de
Vaissiere is below. Perhaps," added she, with a sneer, "perhaps that
Miss Percy will assist you in entertaining your lover."

Pauline started and shuddered, but by this time she had again yielded
to her mother's influence. Going to the glass, she smoothed her dark
hair, and endeavored to abate the swelling of her eyes. Bidding
farewell to her friend, she descended to the parlor, where her
affianced husband awaited her.

He was tall, and his appearance _distingue_; but he, too, looked stern
and cold as he rose to meet that young creature, whose nineteen
summers were more than doubled by his years. He was handsome also; but
where was the youthful ardor that should have been roused at the idea
of winning that fair girl's love? Where were the sunny hopes to meet
hers, the dreams of the future that _he_ wanted? His willingness to
accept the sacrifice was no proof of his gentleness; and the cheek of
his betrothed grew pale, and her hand was cold, as he led her to a
seat.

Pauline had been bred to the hard forcing-school of the _ancien
regime_. Her mother had left France on the terrible death of her
beloved queen, Marie Antoinette, and had passed from the high post of
_dame d'honneur_, to poverty and exile in America. The sale of her
magnificent jewels and massive silver, had enabled her to lease an old
roomy mansion, deserted by its owners, and to live in peace and
retirement. Here, with the recollection of the horrors of the
revolution fresh within her memory, while her heart was still bleeding
with the wounds it had received; while she still had before her the
mangled remains