have you been forced on me at
all? Where is Captain Van Dorne? What becomes of his promises? What
house is this in which I find myself a prisoner? Speak!"

"You can do nothing to make me angry," she rejoined, calmly. "I know
your condition, and pity and respect it, but I shall certainly fulfill
my part of this undertaking. Captain Van Dorne recognized you as Miss
Monfort by the description in the newspaper, as did my mistress, and for
your own welfare we determined to secure you and keep you safe until the
return of Mr. Bainrothe and your sisters from Europe. They will be here
shortly, and all you have to do is to be patient and behave as well as
you can until the time comes for your trial;" and she cast on me a
menacing look from her green and quivering pupils, indescribably feline.

My trial! Great Heaven! did they mean to turn the tables, then, and
destroy me by anticipating my evidence? I staggered to a chair and again
sat down silent confounded. "Where am I, then!" I feebly asked at
length.

"In the establishment of Dr. Englehart," she made answer, "a private
madhouse."

"God of heaven! has it come to this?" I covered my eyes with my hands
and sobbed aloud, while tears of pride and passion rained hotly over my
cheeks. This outburst was of short duration. "I will give them no
advantage," I considered. "My violence might be perverted. There are
creatures too cold and crafty to conceive of such a thing as natural
emotion, and passion with them means insanity. Thank God, the very power
to feel bears with it the power of self-government, and is proof of
reason. I will be calm, and if my life endures put them thus to
shame."--"You say that I am in the asylum of Dr. Englehart?" I asked,
after a pause, during which she had not ceased to dust the furniture and
arrange the bed in its pristine order, speckless, with lace-trimmings,
pillow-cases smooth as glass, and sheets of lawn, and counterpane of
snow. "If so, call my physician hither; I, his patient, have surely a
right to his prompt services."--"It is just possible," I thought, "that
interest or compassion may, one or both, still enlist him in my cause--I
can but try."

A slight embarrassment was evidenced in her countenance as I made this
request. It vanished speedily.

"He is absent just at this time," she answered, quickly. "When he
returns I will make known your wish to him, if, indeed, he does not call
of his own accord."

"Be done with this shallow farce,"