"And now I am supremely happy--she loves me; she has confessed it this day. Oh! my friend, I almost tore this sweet, this heavenly secret from her heart. I threatened her, I almost cursed her. I lay at her feet, uttering wild words of rebuke and bitter reproach. I was mad with passion; resolved to slay myself, if she did not then and there disclose to me either her love or her contempt. I dared all, to win all. She stood pallid and trembling before me, and, as I railed at her, she extended her arms humbly and pleadingly toward me. Oh! she was fair and beautiful as a pardoning angel, with these glistening tears in her wondrous, dreamy eyes, fair and beautiful as a houri of Paradise; when at last, carried away by her own heart, she bowed down and confessed that she loved me; that she would be mine--mine, in spite of her distinguished birth, in spite of all the thousand obstacles which interposed. One wild day I exclaimed, 'Oh! my God, my God! I am set apart to be an artiste; thou hast consecrated me by misfortune.' To-day, I feel that only when I am truly happy can I truly create. From this day alone will I truly be an artiste. I have now received the heavenly consecration of happiness." Eckhof looked down upon his young friend. When he gazed upon the fair and ashy countenance, the glassy eyes staring without expression in the distance, the blue lips convulsively pressed together, he became suddenly silent. "Lupinus, you are ill! you suffer!" he said, opening his arms and trying to clasp his friend once more to his breast. But the touch of his hand made Lupinus tremble, and awakened him from his trance. One wild shriek rang from his bosom, a stream of tears gushed from his eyes, and he sank almost insensible to the floor. "My friend, my beloved friend!" cried Eckhof, "you suffer, and are silent. What is it that overpowers you? What is this great grief? Why do you weep? Let me share and alleviate your sorrow." "No, no!" cried Lupinus, rising, "I do not suffer; I have no pain, no cause of sorrow. Do not touch me; your lightest touch wounds! Go, go! leave me alone!"" "You love me not, then?" said Eckhof. "You suffer, and will not confide in me? you weep bitterly, and command me to leave you?" "And he thinks that I do not love him," murmured Lupinus, with a weary smile. "My God! whom, then, do I love?" "If your friendship for me were true and genuine, you would trust me," said Eckhof. "I have made you share in my happiness, and I demand the holy right of sharing your grief." Lupinus did not reply. Eckhof lifted him gently in his arms, and laying him upon the sofa, took a seat near him. He laid his arms around him, placed his head upon his bosom, and in a soft, melodious voice, whispered words of comfort, encouragement, and love. The young man trembled convulsively, and wept without restraint.