“O, you are too much of a philosopher for me in all that,” replied Jane, “Come, be a woman now, Sabrey, and I will discuss the matter with you, claiming, perhaps, a little, a very little, of the right of the confessor. I can easily understand how painful it would be to have doubts of the character of one's lover, and I can also understand,” she continued, looking a little archly, “how one, who did not love a suitor very hard, could feel grateful--yes, very grateful--to a good-looking young man who had behaved gallantly. And I have a good mind to half suspect--” “Hark!” interrupted the other, hurriedly, while a slight tinge became visible on her cheek--“hark! did you hear the striking of the house clock below? It is telling the hour of midnight. Let us dismiss these embarrassing thoughts, and retire to our repose. Your prospects, Jane,” she continued, rising and speaking in a sad and gently expostulatory tone--“your prospects are bright with love and happiness; and it will be ungenerous and cruel in you to say aught which will deepen the shade that I fear is coming over mine.” “O, I will not, Sabrey,” warmly returned the kind-hearted Jane. “I did not intend it. Forgive me, do; and we will dismiss the subject for something which will give us pleasanter dreams, and then, as you say, go to rest and enjoy them.” Leaving these fair friends to their slumbers, disquieted or sweetened by the various visions which the incidents of the day had been calculated to excite in the bosom of each, we will now repair to a lower apartment of the house, to note the doings of a select band of court dignitaries there assembled, for a purpose concerning which a spectator, at the first glance, might, from the appearances, be at a loss to decide whether it was one of revelry or secret consultation, so much did it partake of the character of both.