, if he be so, I can't perceive it; he does not please
me."

"Well, then, bring me the miniature, and I will pronounce between you
and the world."

With a melancholy smile Julie ran to her own apartment, hard by, and in
a few minutes returned. With curiosity all alive, Lucille took the
brooch and looked at it.

"Well, what say you?" asked Julie, who stood behind her chair, gazing at
the trinket over her shoulder. Lucille was silent, although nearly a
minute had elapsed.

"He certainly has the noble air," she continued; but still Lucille
offered no criticism.

On a sudden she put down the miniature sharply on the table, and said,
abruptly, "It is time to go to rest; let us go to bed."

She rose and turned full round on Julie as she spoke. Her face was pale
as death, and her eyes looked large and gleaming. Her gaze was almost
wild.

"Are you ill?" said Julie, frightened, and taking her hand, which was
quite cold.

"O, no, no," said Lucille quickly, with a smile that made her pallor and
her dilated stare more shocking. "No, no, no--tired, vexed, heart-sick
of the world and of my fate."

Julie, though shocked and horrified, thought she had never seen Lucille
look so handsome before. She was an apparition terrible, yet beautiful
as a lost angel.

"You are, after all, right," she said suddenly. "I--I believe I _am_
ill."

The windows of the apartment descended to the floor, and opened upon a
balcony. She pushed the casement apart, and stood in the open air. Julie
had hurried to her assistance, fearing she knew not what, and stood
close by her. Never was scene so fitted to soothe the sick brain, and
charm the senses with its sad and sweet repose. The pure moon, high in
the deep blue of the heavens, shed over long rows of shimmering steps,
and urns, and marble images--over undulating woodlands, and sheets of
embowered and sleeping water, and distant hills, a mournful and airy
splendor.

It seemed as though nature were doing homage to so much beauty. The old
forest wafted from his broad bosom a long hushed sigh as she came forth;
the moon looked down on her with a serene, sad smile; and the spirits of
the night-breeze sported with her tresses, and kissed her pale lips and
forehead.

At least five minutes passed in silence. Lucille, on a sudden, said--

"So, at the end of a year you will be married?"

It seemed to Julie that the countenance that was turned upon her gleamed
with an expression of hatred which