throughout
the hushed room, resembling somewhat a deep sigh and an expiring
groan--it proceeded from the rose, which fell from her bosom, shrivelled
and lifeless. An expression of disdainful rage rendered her face almost
repulsive, as she noticed the sensation excited by the circumstance, and
the cold, gloomy silence with which her choice was received.

After a short conference, the electors reported that they had chosen
Arthur of Britain and the Princess Edith to be their lawful sovereigns.
Hildebrand then led them to a balcony, and presented them to the people;
and loud and enthusiastic were the shouts of the populace: "Long live
our Emperor, Arthur the Brave! Long live the good Princess!" The
plaudits were echoed far and wide. The achievements of the noble Arthur,
and the kind deeds of "The Good Princess," formed the theme of the
fireside-tale in the humble cottage, and of the troubadour's lay in
castle and banquetting-hall. Arthur, who in Britain was mourned as dead,
or as lying in enchanted sleep with his good sword Excalibar at his
side, ready to start up to his country's rescue in some hour of future
peril--enjoyed, instead, a happier fate. Long and glorious was his
reign: the wicked fled away from his presence, like mists before the
sun; the upright rejoiced under his protection, and peace reigned
throughout all the borders of the Empire. Excalibar was sheathed: no
foes dared to invade the land. Brightly and sweetly bloomed the magic
roses, which once grew on the same tree in the earthly Paradise, and
which were now seldom far asunder; flourishing, in their transplanted
state, upon hearts which diffused a moral Paradise of love and purity
around them.

And what became of the imperious Clotilda? Enraged at the decision of
the electors, and at her father's acquiescence, she soon left the
Imperial court to accompany her lord to his distant empire. There her
life passed unhappily enough amid the rude magnificence and brutal
amusements of the palace. She did not find that Ivan was easily managed,
as she had hoped: fools seldom are--it requires a portion of good sense
to perceive our deficiencies, and to allow the superiority of others.
They became more and more estranged, both giving way to the evil
passions most natural to them. Ivan, indulging in sensual pleasures,
became more and more brutified; and Clotilda, yielding up her soul to
the dominion of pride, hatred, and violence, became so embittered
against her un