parted such seductive expression to far other breathings of the same muse; vouchsafe, lady, to lend your enchanting voice to her holier inspiration."

The Princess was wofully changed since her agitating and decisive conference with Casimir; her spirits were fled beyond reach of an effort; she was pale and silent, and the consciousness that a secret so humiliating was so insecurely lodged, kept her in constant trepidation.

Spare me, Wolfstein," she said, “I cannot sing my voice has lost its power of late; indeed, I shall ruin the effect both of the lines and the music."

"Oh yes, you will sing, Princess," replied he with a soft, entreating voice, but with a look which she well understood to mean you shall sing.-"Your spirits," added he, with insulting gentleness, "want reviving-I must bring you to your old habits, and you shall thank me for it.. Time, time will cure all this, but we must aid him;-besides, you, who were so fond of warbling that little naughty

canzonet of mine to Myra, cannot refuse to encourage the first steps of a reclaimed libertine. Oh yes, you will sing, Princess !"

This was hard to endure, but there was no helping it; and, though she complied, she could not sufficiently conceal her feelings to forbear adding to the triumph of her wily enemy;-she snatched the book angrily from his hand, and having tuned her lute, and run over a prelude, to which her very agitation lent expression, she burst forth into the song with a force and energy which arrested the admiration of her whole audience, but it was an overpowering effort; in a moment her voice sunk, her bosom throbbed, and her cheek flushed with intense crimson, while tears of indignation for the unmanly compulsion she had suffered, forced their way into her eyes.

"Princess, you are ill," said the Empress, compassionately; "you should not have attempted to sing the heat of the

room overpowers you. Pray retire, and try the effect of air."

Her persecutor again approached, and taking the hand she dared not withdraw, led her with an air of the most soothing attention from the apartment, every one admiring the manly suavity of his manners. He led her to the entrance of her own suite in silence, then

66

Princess," said he, "take a friend's advice :-I know that nothing implants so bitter a pang in the tender breast of woman as the scorn of a beloved object; -there is but one cure,-set your vanity on some other conquest-repulse in one instance should not discourage you,— you have ample time before you; but, upon my soul, if you go on in this style, premature wrinkles, faded roses, and gray hairs, are at hand, and you will be consigned to cards, scandal, ratafia, devotion, and all the stimulants which remain to render life endurable to a tarnished beauty."

Thus saying, he left her, and retraced his steps towards the apartment of the

Empress. The lute and open MS. lay upon the table: her Majesty, in regretting the indisposition of her lady of the key, expressed her disappointment likewise in being deprived of her vocal powers, and losing the hope of hearing the sacred songs. The Baroness of Marchfeldt was the only lady present who could have undertaken them: the Empress did not otherwise refer to her than by accompanying her expressions of regret with a significant look, which was indeed a sort of tacit command. Louisa hesitated for a moment; then, with the haste of one about to perform some desperate act, she approached the table, and taking up the lute, whose chords were already tuned, poured forth a strain of such sweetness and sublimity as could not fail to soften and exalt the mind of her dullest hearer. When she ceased, the delight she inspired did not relieve itself in audible encomiums-all was for some moments silent, as if the intranced ear still hung upon the thrilling cadence; no one spoke to

ส

her, or of her, for the feelings she excited could not be uttered; but all thronged to congratulate Wolfstein, and no one sympathized more cordially in his conversion and success than Professor Westermann.

The almost voluntary performance of his song by Louisa of Marchfeldt seemed like a dream to the Chevalier; the utmost stretch of his vanity would not have promised him such a triumph. She had often sung to him, and often had he hung over her song with the most absorbing rapture; but he believed that now, for the first time, he heard that angel voice to perfection; and, in truth, the emotion of her heart as she sung the words of Wolfstein-words betokening a purified and repentant spirit, lent a tremulous magic to her music, such as it had never owned before. He ventured not yet to speak to her; but his hand shaking with undissembled agitation, he turned the leaves till he opened them at a hymn, which he secretly considered the chef d'œuvre of his muse.