what to
do. How gladly he would have made his escape from this horrible
mockery--for her sake as well as for his own! But for such escape he
saw plainly there was no possibility. That delirious mind, in its
frenzy, was too intent upon its one purpose to admit of this. He
himself also felt a strange and painful sense of guilt. Was not he to
a great extent the cause of this, though the unwilling cause? Ah! he
thought, remorsefully, can wrong be right? and can any thing justify
such a desecration as this both of marriage and of death? At that
moment Chetwynde faded away, and to have saved it was as nothing.
Willingly would he have given up every thing if he could now have
said to this poor child--who thus crouched down, crushed by a woman's
sorrow before she had known a woman's years--"Farewell. You are free.
I will give you a brother's love and claim nothing in return. I will
give back all, and go forth penniless into the battle of life."

But the General again interrupted them, speaking impatiently: "What
are you waiting for? Is not Zillah getting ready?"

Guy scarcely knew what he was doing; but, obeying the instincts of
his pity, he bent down and whispered to Zillah, "My poor child, I
pity you, and sympathize with you more than words can tell. It is an
awful thing for you. But can you not rouse yourself? Perhaps it would
calm your father. He is getting too excited."

Zillah shrunk away as though he were pollution, and Guy at this
resumed his former place in sadness and in desperation, with no other
idea than to wait for the end.

"Zillah! Zillah!" cried the General, almost fiercely.

At this Zillah sprang up, and rushed out of the room. She hurried up
stairs, and found the ayah in her dressing-room with Hilda. In the
next room her white silk was laid out, her wreath and veil beside it.

"Here's my jewel come to be dressed in her wedding-dress," said the
ayah, joyously.

"Be quiet!" cried Zillah, passionately. "Don't dare to say any thing
like that to me; and you may put all that trash away, for I'm not
going to be married at all. I can't do it, and I won't. I hate him! I
hate him! I hate him! I hate him!"

These words she hissed out with the venom of a serpent. Her
attendants tried remonstrance, but in vain. Hilda pointed out to her
the handsome dress, but with no greater success. Vainly they tried to
plead, to coax, and to persuade. All this only seemed to strengthen
her determination. At last she threw her