“I have plighted my faith to you before God’s altar to-day,” she said, speaking more steadily,--“because after long and earnest thought, I saw that there was no other way of satisfying the two nations to which we belong, and cementing the friendly relations between them. There is no woman of Royal birth,--so it has been pointed out to me--who is so suitable, from a political point of view, to be your wife as I. It is for the sake of your Throne and country that you must marry--and I ask God to forgive me if I have done wrong in His sight by wedding you simply for duty’s sake. My father, your father, and all who are connected with our two families desire our union, and have assured me that, it is right and good for me to give up my life to yours. All women’s lives must be martyred to the laws made by men,--or so it seems to me,--I cannot expect to escape from the general doom apportioned to my sex. I therefore accept the destiny which transfers me to you as a piece of human property for possession and command,--I accept it freely, but I will not say gladly, because that would not be true. For I do not love you,--I cannot love you! I want you to know that, and to feel it, that you may not ask from me what I cannot give.” There were no tears in her eyes; she looked at him straightly and steadfastly. He, in his turn, met her gaze fully,--his face had paled a little, and a shadow of pained regret and commiseration darkened his handsome features. “You love someone else?” he asked, softly. She rose from her chair and confronted him, a glow of passionate pride flushing her cheeks and brow. “No!” she said--“I would not be a traitor to you in so much as a thought! Had I loved anyone else I would never have married you,--no!--though you had been ten times a prince and king! No! You do not understand. I come to you heartwhole and passionless, without a single love-word chronicled in my girlhood’s history, or a single incident you may not know. I have never loved any man, because from my very childhood I have hated and feared all men! I loathe their presence--their looks--their voices--their manners,--if one should touch my hand in ordinary courtesy, my instincts are offended and revolted, and the sense of outrage remains with me for days. My mother knows of this, and says I am ‘unnatural,’--it may be so. But unnatural or not, it is the truth; judge therefore the extent of the sacrifice I make to God and our two countries in giving myself to you!” The prince stood amazed and confounded. Did she rave? Was she mad? He studied her with a curious, half-doubting scrutiny, and noted the composure of her attitude, the cold serenity of her expression,--there was evidently no hysteria, no sur-excitation of nerves about this calm statuesque beauty which in every line and curve of loveliness silently mutinied against him, and despised him. Puzzled, yet fascinated, he sought in his mind for some clue to her meaning.