e that daring, energetic thought
lay hidden beneath those clusters of brown curls. She was not in the
bloom of youth, but at twenty-five she appeared younger than many
beauties at eighteen; and if her form no longer possessed the charm
of girlhood, it was attractive from its suppleness and full, beautiful
bust.

"Louisa, Louisa, where are you?" cried the young lady, stepping quickly
forward toward a side-path, which led from the broad avenue, and at the
end of which was a sunny grassplot.

"Here I am, miss; I am coming."

"Miss," murmured the young lady, "how dreadfully it sounds! The blush of
shame rises to my face, for it sounds like bitter mockery and contempt,
and brings my whole life before me. Yet, I must endure it--and I
scarcely wish it were otherwise. Ah, there you are, Louisa, and there
is my beautiful boy," she cried, with a glad voice, hastening toward the
peasant-woman and bending fondly over her child. "How beautiful and how
knowing he looks! It seems as if my little Alexander began to recognize
me--he looks so earnest and sensible."

"He knows you, miss," said the nurse, courtesying, "and he knows, like
other children, who loves him. Children and dogs know who love them. The
children cry, and the dogs hide themselves when people are around who
dislike them."

"Nonsense, Louisa!" laughed the young lady, as she bent to kiss her
child--"nonsense! did not my little boy cry when his father took him
yesterday? And he loves his child most tenderly, as only a father can."

"Oh, there is another reason for that," said the nurse. "He has just
passed his first stupid three months, and he begins to hear and see what
passes around him, and it was the first man's face that he had seen. But
only look, miss, what a beautiful little dog is coming up the path."
It was indeed a lovely greyhound, of the small Italian race, which came
bounding joyfully toward them, and as he saw the woman barked loudly.

"Be quiet, Alkmene, be quiet!" cried a loud, commanding voice.

"Oh, Heaven! it is the king!" whispered the young lady, turning pale,
and, as if stunned, retreated a few steps.

"Yes, it is really the king," cried the nurse, "and he is coming
directly from the grass-plot here."

"Let us go as quickly as possible, Louisa. Come, come," and she hastily
threw her mantle around her, drawing the hood over her curly head. She
had only proceeded a few steps, when a loud voice bade her to remain--to
stand still. She stood