the
springs of life had been injured by previous bereavement. Her lungs
became affected, and the symptoms of decline rapidly and fatally
increased from continual affliction of mind.--_History of Spain_.]

Isabella had not seen Marie that morning; her trusty attendant, Donna
Inez de Leon, had alone been with her, and had reported that she was
calm and composed, and more like herself than she had been since her
bereavement. Time passed but slowly, and Catherine Pas, the same
high-spirited maiden mentioned in a former chapter, perceiving that
the Queen's anxiety evidently increased as the hours waned, quietly
left the chamber, unbidden, and even unseen. A brief interval saw
her return, and with a countenance so expressive of horrified
bewilderment, as to excite the astonishment of all.

"Oh, madam!" she exclaimed, as she flew to the Queen's seat,
regardless of either decorum or rebuke; "Oh, madam, it has killed her;
she is dying!"

"Dying!" repeated Isabella, and the whole strength of her character
was put forth, to prevent her starting from her seat. "Dying!--who is
dying? Speak out, in Santa Maria's name!"

"Donna Marie--the poor, unhappy Marie; she has been borne from the
hall! Don Felix had her in his arms; I saw her; I followed them, and
she looked dead, quite dead; they would not let me go to her at first,
till I called them hard-hearted wretches! And I have tried to rouse
her, but I could not. Oh, save her, gracious madam! Do not let her
die!"

"And have they none with her?" demanded the Queen. "But whom can they
have, save her own terrified women? Inez--Leonor--go to her at once!
Your skill and tenderness will soon revive her; this silly child
is terrified at shadows. 'Tis but a faint, such as followed the
announcement of her husband's death. If any one dare refuse you
entrance, tell them you go in your Queen's name. Foolish trembler,"
she added, in a tone of relief, as her commands were instantly obeyed,
"why this excessive agitation, when thou hast seen a faint like this
before?"

"Nay, but by your leave, gracious madam, I have not," replied
Catherine, with emotion. "There is far more of horror in this; she is
cold--cold, like stone; and they have planted a guard at the entrance
of her apartments, and they tell a tale so wild and strange, I cannot
give it credence!"

"Ha! what say they?" demanded the Queen hastily, her eyes flashing
with light, as they always did when she was excited. "What can it be,