A heavy, dull sound startled him as he said this. It was Kate, who had fallen back, fainting, on the sofa. It was long before, with all Frank's efforts at restoration, she came to herself; and even when consciousness returned, tears flowed from her eyes and coursed down her cheeks copiously, as she lay speechless and motionless. “My own poor Kate, my poor, dear sister!” were all that Frank could say, as he held her cold, clammy hand within his own; and, with an almost breaking heart, gazed on her pale features. It was so like death! “And might not death be better?” thought he, as he travelled over in his mind the story, of whose secret he was now possessed. How differently did he judge all Nelly's counsels _now!_ In what a changed spirit did he think of that wisdom which, but a few minutes back, he had sneered at! “And so it is,” muttered he. “If we who are born to humble fortunes would cherish ambition, we must pay for it with our hearts' blood. Nelly was right; she often said so. Over and over again did she tell me, 'goodness is the only safe road to greatness.' Oh that one so beautiful as this should have missed the path!” And, sobbing violently, he kissed her hand, and watered it with his tears. “Frank, you are with me,----you 'll not leave me,” said she, faintly, as she opened her eyes and stared in bewilderment around her. “I remember everything now--everything,” said she, with an emphasis on the last word. “This is Vienna: I recollect all. Ring that bell, Frank: let Nina come to me, but don't go away; be sure not to go.” Nina soon made her appearance, and with a look of half surprise, half admiration at the handsome soldier, assisted Kate to arise. “I'll be back presently, Frank,” said she, with a faint smile, and left the room. And the youth, overcome by emotion, sat down and buried his face in his hands. CHAPTER VIII. PRIESTLY COUNSELS Frank was so full of his own reflections that he almost forgot his sister's absence; nor did he notice how the time went oyer, when he heard the sound of voices and the noise of a door closing; and, on looking up, perceived a handsome man, something short of middle-aged, who, dressed in the deep black of a priest, wore a species of blue silk collar, the mark of a religious order. His features were perfectly regular, and their expression the most bland and courteous it was possible to imagine. There was a serene dignity, too, in his gait, as he came forward, that showed how thoroughly at home he felt on the soft carpet, and in the perfumed atmosphere of a drawing-room. Bowing twice to Frank, he saluted him with a smile, so gentle and so winning, that the boy almost felt as if they had been already acquainted. “I have come,” said the priest, “to pay my respects to the Princesse de Midchekoff, and, if my eyesight is not playing me false, I have the honor to recognize her brother.” Frank blushed with pleasure as he bowed an assent.