were more sociable or more affectionate together.

The old gentleman was in high spirits. 'My dear,' said he, 'your
presence to-day inspires me with an unusual degree of happiness--and
egad, I feel younger than ever. Pledge me in a bumper of good old port.'

'I cannot endure port,' said Julia--'sparkling champagne for me. I will
ring for some.'

'By your leave, madam,' said her husband, with an air of gallantry; and
rising, he walked across the room, and rang the bell.

Quick as lightning, Julia took a small paper parcel from her bosom, and
breaking it open, poured a white powder into her husband's glass, which
was nearly full of port wine.

Mr. Hedge resumed his seat, and raising the fatal glass to his lips,
slowly drained it to the dregs. Just then the butler entered, in answer
to the summons; and in obedience to Julia's order, he brought in a
bottle of champagne, and withdrew.

'I am very unwell,' said the old gentleman--'my love, will you assist me
to my chamber?' He arose with difficulty, and with her aid reached his
chamber, and lay down upon the bed. Instantly he closed his eyes, and
seemed to fall into a deep slumber.

'He will wake in another world,' murmured the guilty woman, as she saw
the hue of death beginning to overspread his features. No repentance, no
remorse, touched her vile heart; calmly she surveyed her victim for a
few moments--then, not wishing to witness his dying agonies, she left
the chamber, having carefully locked the door.

That afternoon she went out and purchased a new and magnificent set of
jewels. If for a moment the recollection of her horrible crime obtruded
itself upon her mind, she banished it by thinking of her adored Montoni.
Hers was a kind of mental intoxication, under the influence of which she
could have perpetrated the most enormous crimes, blindly and almost
unconsciously.

Returning home she prepared her toilet with the most elaborate care. A
French 'artist,' (all barbers are _artists_, by the way,) was sent for,
who arranged her beautiful hair in the latest _mode_; and when arrayed
in her superb evening dress of white satin with her fair neck, her wrist
and her lovely brow blazing with jewels, she looked like some queen of
Oriental romance, waiting to receive the homage of her vassals.

And when, as the clock struck eight, the Signor Montoni entered, who can
wonder that he thought her divinely lovely, as he glanced at her face
radiant with smiles, her cheek suff