hips will go down to destruction in the roaring sea; many men
will lose all that they possess," she murmured, with a coarse laugh.
"God sends His favorite daughter, the bride of the winds; she sings a
derisive song to men; she shows them how weak, how pitiful they are. She
sweeps away their possessions--touches them on that point where alone
they are sensitive. I rejoice in the howling, whistling tempest! This
is the voice of the great world-spirit, dashing by in the thunder, and
making the cowardly hearts of men tremble. They deserve this punishment;
they are utterly unworthy and contemptible. I hate, I despise them all!
Only when I see them suffer can I be reconciled to them. Aha! the storm
has seized a beautifully-dressed lady. How it whirls and dashes her
about! Look how it lifts her robe, making rare sport of her deceitful,
affected modesty. Miserable, variegated butterfly that you are, you
think yourself a goddess of youth and beauty. This wild tempest teaches
you that you are but a poor, pitiful insect, tossed about in the world
like any other creeping thing--a powerless atom. The storm first takes
possession of your clothes, now of your costly hat. Wait, my lady,
wait! one day it will take your heart; it will be crushed and broken to
pieces--there will be none to pity. The world laughs and mocks at the
wretched. Misfortune is the only disgrace which is never forgiven. You
may be a thief, a murderer, and you will be pardoned if you are adroit
enough to slip your head from the noose. Criminals are pitied and
pardoned, unfortunates never. Ah, this is a mad, gay world, and they are
fools who take it earnestly; who do not laugh--laugh even as I do."

The princess laughed aloud--if that could be called a laugh, from which
she shuddered back herself in terror.

"It is bitter cold here," she said, shuddering; "I think I shall never
be warm again. I am always freezing, and this miserable frost has turned
my heart and soul to ice. I would like to know if they will thaw in the
grave?"

She stepped slowly from the window, and crept through the large, empty
room to the chimney, where a large wood-fire was burning--now flickering
up in clear flames, now breaking into glowing coals.

Amelia took the poker, and amused herself by dashing the coals apart,
and watching the flashing, dancing flames. The fire seemed to embrace
her whole figure, and threw a rosy shimmer over her wan and fallen
cheeks. She gazed deep down into the