air of her servants said plainly enough that her disappearance was a part of some unjust and unnatural punishment. "When Dionigi died, his heiress reappeared in the palace, with an old aunt who was little better than he, but who allowed her to breathe a little more freely. They say that at that time again she had several brilliant offers of marriage, but that she obstinately refused, thereby much angering the princess, her aunt. Her death put an end at last to her niece's persecutions, and at the age of twenty she found herself alone and free in the house of her fathers. But it was evidently too late for her to rouse from the state of prostration to which so much sorrow had brought her. She had lost the strength and the desire to be happy. She was torpid, a little inclined to be morose, and seemingly incapable of inviting the affection of others. She gained the affection, however, of some persons of her own rank, and it is certain that the Marquis della Serra, whom she refused to marry when he entered the lists several years ago, has never ceased to love her ardently. Everybody says so, and I know it; I will tell you how. "Although I pride myself, without undue boasting, on being a good workman, I confess that when I am in the palace, I am, in spite of myself, the slowest of the slow. I am excited and perturbed. The ring of the hammers irritates my nerves, as if I were a silly girl; I am overcome by the heat at the slightest exertion with my arms. Every moment of the time I either have a feeling that I am going to faint, or am tempted to creep into dark corners, crouch there out of sight, and allow myself to be left behind. I surprise myself listening, prowling, spying. I no longer dare to go into the princess's oratory or her bedroom alone. Oh! no; although I know the road perfectly well. My respect is stronger now than my insane and restless passion! But if I can breathe the perfume that escapes through the chinks of the door of her boudoir; if I can hear, even at a distance, the sound of her light footsteps, which I know so well--then I am content, I am drunk with joy. "Thus I have heard, I dare not say involuntarily--for if chance placed me within earshot, my will was not strong enough to prevent me from listening,--more than one interview between the princess and the marquis. How often have I been consumed by frantic jealousy? but I have acquired certain knowledge that he is only her friend, a loyal, respectful, submissive friend. "One day, among others, they had a conversation, every word of which, I believe, is engraved with fatal distinctness on my memory. "The princess was saying when I entered the adjoining room: "'Oh! why question me so persistently? You know, my friend, that I am absurdly impressionable; that the thought of the past freezes my blood, and that, if I could make up my mind to speak of it--I believe, yes, I believe that I should go mad!'