, the old woman presented in the first scene of our tale, decked
the unfortunate girl in her bridal robes, and went with her to the
chapel, where her father and Radetsky awaited her. An old priest
mumbled over the ceremony, and joined the hands of the bride and
bridegroom. The witnesses were few--only the vassals of the count; and
no attempt at festivity preceded or followed the dismal ceremony.

Alvina retired to her chamber when it was over, promising to join her
bridegroom at the table in a few moments. The housekeeper accompanied
her.

"I give you joy, Countess Radetsky," said the old woman.

"I sorely need it," was the bitter answer. "I have sacrificed myself
to the duty I owe my sole surviving parent."

The old woman rubbed her hands and chuckled as she noted the tone of
anguish in which these words were uttered.

"I can now speak out," she said. "After long years of silence, the
seal is removed from my lips. I can now repay your childish scorn, and
bitter jests, by a bitterer jest than any you have yet dreamed of.
Countess Radetsky----"

"Spare me that name," said the countess.

"Nay, sweet, it is one you will bear through life," said the hag, "and
you had better accustom yourself early to its sound. Know, then, my
sweet lady, that the count, my master, had no claims on your
obedience."

"How?"

"He is a childless man. He found you an abandoned orphan. Struck with
your beauty, he brought you to his lady, and, though they loved you
not, they adopted you, with a view to making your charms useful to
them when you should have grown up. The count has amply paid himself
to-day for all the expense and trouble you have put him to. He has
sold you to an eager suitor for a good round price. Ha, ha!"

"And you knew this, and never told me!" cried the hapless girl.

"I was bound by an oath not to reveal the secret till you were
married. And I did not love you enough to perjure myself."

"Wretch--miserable wretch!" cried Alvina. "Alas! to what a fate have I
been doomed! Ah! why did they not let me rather perish than rear me to
this doom? My heart is given to Alexis--my hand to Radetsky!"

"Go down, sweet, to your bridegroom," said the old woman, who was
totally deaf to her complaints, "or he will seek you here."

Alvina descended to the banquet hall, uncertain what course to pursue.
Escape appeared impossible, and what little she knew of Radetsky
convinced her that he was as pitiless and base as her reputed f