the time, for she shrank from mingling with
the guests of the hotel, since she knew there would be a great deal of
gossip over her approaching nuptials, and she did not like to be
conspicuous.

She drove nearly every day with her betrothed, however, and while with
him exerted herself to appear interested and entertained, and grateful
for his unwearied kindness.

He was very considerate of her feelings--he seldom referred to their
approaching marriage, but sought by every means in his power to keep her
mind engaged with amusing and pleasant topics.

The ceremony was to be performed in the English church of the place, and
Mrs. Mencke had sent to Paris for a suitable trousseau for the occasion.
She had spared no expense, for she was determined that the affair should
be as brilliant as circumstances would permit.

The day preceding that set for the wedding Violet was so ill--so nervous
and prostrated by her increasing dread and sense of wrong as the fatal
hour drew near--that she did not rise until noon, while it was nearly
evening before she felt able to grant Vane an interview which he
particularly requested.

He startled back appalled, when, as he entered her parlor, she turned
her wan, colorless face toward him.

"You are ill! I had no idea that you were so sick!" he cried, in a voice
of deep concern and surprise, for Mrs. Mencke had made light of Violet's
indisposition.

"No, not ill, only tired and a little nervous," she replied, trying to
smile, reassuringly.

He sat down beside her and began to tell her about the arrangements he
had made for going "home," and she was touched to see how, in every
detail, he had had only her comfort and pleasure in mind.

"Shall you like it?" he asked, when he had sketched the proposed journey
to her.

"Yes, thank you; you are very kind," she tried to say, heartily, but, in
spite of her effort, the tone sounded cold and formal.

The young man's face fell. He had so hoped to see hers light up with
anticipation.

"Is there anything that you would like changed? Would you prefer to go
another way, or to take in other places on the route?" he asked,
wishing, oh, so earnestly, that she would express some preference, or
even make some objection to his plans; anything would be more endurable
than such apathetic acquiescence.

"No, let it stand, please, just as you have it," she answered, in a
somewhat weary tone.

"Have you everything you wish? Are there no little things th