"Do you wish me to sing it, Chevalier," said Louisa,-Hemade no answer, and, save with his eyes, he spoke not; but the Baroness resumed the lute, and poured forth the selected strain with, if possible, improved brilliancy; for the embarrassment with which she began had subsided, and she was become mistress of her powers-powers incalculably heightened by devotional enthusiasm, mingled with the still softer feelings of human attachment. In short, song after song was executed, till nearly the whole book was exhausted.

To Louisa's heart that hour had proved decisively fatal; and, for the Chevalier, he would have bartered half his life for such a moment, which was rendered still more precious to him by the unexpected curtailment of that suspense, which, however confident he might be as to its termination, he had prepared himself to endure some time longer. Again, as at Marchfeldt Castle, he became wholly absorbed by one tyrannical sentiment, and

all the subtlety of his nature was em ployed in restraining the impetuous and premature expression of his intense admiration. The book was closed, and the pent up applause now burst its fetters, each expressing their delight in the characteristic language of the individual.

The Baroness sate with downcast eyes, receiving the universal homage.

"For my part," said the Empress to Wolfsteïn, "I recommend you, Chevalier, to let no voice destroy the impression the Baroness has left upon our hearts of your hymns-no other music can do them justice."

66

No, madam," said he, with undisguised emotion, "my own impulse is but seconded by your Majesty's suggestion; -no other voice shall ever sing them!"

"Baroness," said the Empress, "we must prevail on you to indulge us once again; the Emperor must hear those hymns, and we will meet here tomorrow evening.'

"Chevalier, look at this passage," said

Louisa, "I am not sure that I

gave it the true expression. Did I not sing it somewhat too slow ?"

Smothering in his own breast the joy which this little token of encouragement gave him, he approached, and bent over the book.

"Perfection," murmured he, "must be lost on him who could find a fault in your delivery of that passage. You see, madam, Professor Krantz was doubtful of the precise expression, and has left it ad libitum, but from henceforth there remains no doubt,"

His subdued air and faltering voice were skilfully employed; Louisa found her firmness giving way,-she turned over the leaves of the book till she paused at a duet;"Is this equal to the rest, Sir Warbeck ?" asked she.

"I believe, madam, Professor Krantz calls it the pride of the collection."

"Then we will try it, if you please, to-morrow evening."

These few words were uttered in a.

hurried voice, and without looking up, -"Madam,-pardon me,-I am not sure I understand you."

"We will sing this duet together, Wolfstein."

And rising, she approached her Majesty with a petition that the sacred melodies might be entrusted to her care till the following evening, as she wished to practise them, in order that they might have every advantage in her power to give them on the morrow's performance: the request was promptly accorded, and the Empress whispered,

"You are all I wish, Baroness; your conduct this morning is no less honour. able to your sense and feeling than to your talents-I would have no coquettes about me."

Louisa blushed and sighed; she felt but too powerfully the intimate correspondence which subsisted between the well-meant suggestions of her imperial mistress and her own weakness; for,

while she found herself yielding to the latter, and creeping at every step closer to the brink of the precipice, her internal misgivings were not silent, and the secret voice was there with its incessant warning, Beware of Wolfstein. Her affection for this fearful being, or else the fatality which she believed persecuted her on his behalf, had now, as she expected it sooner or later would, gained the advantage over the cautious and practised coldness in which she had intrenched herself; she could not reflect without doubting, and therefore, arrived at this crisis, she resolved not to think at all.

"It is plain," said she to herself, “that whether happiness or unhappiness awaits me from Wolfsteïn's hand, I must receive the cup."

When the royal circle dispersed, the Chevalier, with the same modesty of demeanour which had hitherto pleaded his cause so eloquently, offered to take her hand with well-dissembled fear that even