, did she love him?"

Louise shrugged her shoulders.

"When he made his proposals, she declared herself ready to marry him;
but, I believe, his presence was less agreeable and interesting to her
than the splendid gifts he daily brought her."

"But, Louise, it was her free choice to marry him? You did not persuade
her? you did not, I hope, in order to humor my weakness, induce her by
entreaties and representations to marry against her will?"

"My friend," said Louise, with the proud air of an injured mother,
"however fondly I may have loved you, I would not have sacrificed for
you the happiness of an only child. Camilla asked my consent to her
marriage after she had obtained her father's permission, and I gave it.
The marriage took place three days after the engagement, and the young
pair made a bridal-trip to England, from which they returned a few
months since."

"And where are they now?"

"They live in Berlin in an enchanting villa, which Lord Elliot has
converted into a palace for his young wife. You will see them this
evening, for they are both here, and--"

Louise ceased to speak; a well-known voice interrupted the silence, and
drew nearer and nearer. "Ah," whispered she, lightly, "the proverb is
fulfilled, 'Speak of the wolf, and he appears.' That is Lord Elliot and
Camilla speaking with such animation. Let us listen awhile."

The youthful pair had now drawn near, and stood just before the grotto.

"I find it cruel, very cruel, to deny me every innocent pleasure," said
Camilla, with a harsh, displeased voice. "I must live like a nun who has
taken an eternal vow; I am weary of it."

"Oh, my Camilla, you slander yourself when you say this; you are not
well, and you must be prudent. I know you better than you know yourself,
my Camilla. Your heart, which is clear and transparent as crystal, lies
ever unveiled before me, and I listen with devout love to its every
pulse. I am sure that you do not wish to dance to-day, my love."

"I wish to dance, and I will dance, because it gives me pleasure."

"Because you are like a sweet child and like the angels," said Lord
Elliot, eagerly; "your heart is gay and innocent. You are like a
fluttering Cupid, sleeping in flower-cups and dreaming of stars and
golden sunshine; you know nothing of earthly and prosaic thoughts. I
must bind your wings, my beauteous butterfly, and hold you down in the
dust of this poor, pitiful world. Wait, only wait till you are well;
when you