they were soft and humid as though
recently filled with tears. All the burning scorn and indignation had
gone out of her face--she looked pityingly at the prostrate form of her
admirer.

"He is not dead," she said quietly. "I will call Casimir."

I knelt beside the Prince and raised his hand. It was cold and heavy.
His lips were blue, and his closed eyelids looked as though, in the
words of Homer, "Death's purple finger" had shut them fast forever. No
breath--no pulsation of the heart. I looked fearfully at Zara. She
smiled half sadly.

"He is not dead," she repeated.

"Are you sure?" I murmured. "What was it, Zara, that made him fall? I
was at the door--I saw and heard everything."

"I know you did," said Zara gently; "and I am glad of it. I wished you
to see and hear all."

"Is it a fit, do you think?" I asked again, looking sorrowfully at the
sad face of the unfortunate Ivan, which seemed to me to have already
graven upon it the stern sweet smile of those who have passed all
passion and pain forever. "Oh, Zara! do you believe he will recover?"
And tears choked my voice--tears of compassion and regret.

Zara came and kissed me.

"Yes, he will recover--do not fret, little one. I have rung my private
bell for Casimir; he will be here directly. The Prince has had a
shock--not a fatal one, as you will see. You look doubtful--are you
afraid of me, dear?"

I gazed at her earnestly. Those clear childlike eyes--that frank
smile--that gentle and dignified mien--could they accompany evil
thoughts? No! I was sure Zara was good as she was lovely.

"I am not afraid of you, Zara," I said gravely; "I love you too well
for that. But I am sorry for the poor Prince; and I cannot
understand---"

"You cannot understand why those who trespass against fixed laws should
suffer?" observed Zara calmly. "Well, you will understand some day. You
will know that in one way or another it is the reason of all suffering,
both physical and mental, in the world."

I said no more, but waited in silence till the sound of a firm
approaching footstep announced Heliobas. He entered the room
quickly--glanced at the motionless form of the Prince, then at me, and
lastly at his sister.

"Has he been long thus?" he asked in a low tone.

"Not five minutes," replied Zara.

A pitying and affectionate gentleness of expression filled his keen
eyes.

"Reckless boy!" he murmured softly, as he stooped and laid one hand
lightly on Ivan's breast. "H