not yet come."

Edward passed into the adjoining room, the door of which stood open, it
was lighted up, and there, on a sofa with tearfraught eyes sat the Lady
Christine; her lute lay negligently on her arm, as if she would have
played, but she was so deeply plunged in thought, that she started up
terrified, when Edmond greeted her and inquired after her health.
"Lady, dearest," he exclaimed, "what is the matter with you? I have
never yet seen you thus!"

"Not thus?" said Christine, looking wildly, and with a smile of
bitterness, "and why not, it is thus indeed I should ever be! Only you
do not know, nor understand me; you will not understand me!"

Edmond drew back bewildered; "how shall I interpret these words?"

"As you will, or rather as you can."

"Explain yourself," said the young man; "you have been weeping, you
appear ill."

"All this is of great importance, is it not?" said she with a
passionate movement.

"How have I offended you?" asked Edmond with sympathy, "it almost
appears as if I had: are you mortified by me? I do not know myself
guilty in anything; what is it then in the name of all the saints?"

"That you are a man!" said Christine, while her pale cheeks glowed with
the deepest crimson.

"Well! really," said Edmond, "this transgression is so new, that I know
not how to answer. Is this the amiable Christine of Castelnau, who thus
greets her friend, who"--

"Amiable!" cried she passionately--"what do you call thus, ye friends?
the bad, the wretched, the worthless of this world, with which we cover
our naked misery as with torn purple rags from the worn out, faded
wardrobes of former times, when there were yet clothes, and ornament
and men?--or has the world been always thus miserable?"--she threw the
lute from her as if it terrified her. "This is also one of the
deplorable customs, that we should warble and play, and make grimaces,
though our hearts were to break, in case a particle of heart throb yet
within us."

"You are ill," exclaimed Edmond, "so ill, that I shall run immediately
to our friend Vila;" "Stop," said Christine, and while they were still
disputing, an equipage quickly rattled up; all arose in the first room,
it was the Marshal of Montrevel, who in his dress-uniform stepped
lightly and gracefully out of the carriage and bounded up the stairs,
and while the folding doors were thrown open, and the ladies and
gentlemen in the room formed a respectful line, he greeted them all
w