Amid this throng moved Paul Woodville in eager quest of the masked Barbara, who had refrained from telling him what costume she would assume. If he were a true lover he ought to be able to penetrate her disguise, she had playfully observed, and if he failed to discover her, why then the want of discernment on his part should bring its own punishment. As he moved here and there witching glances were cast at him by masked ladies, for as regards figure and dress, few were more qualified than Paul to serve as a cavalier. He had adopted the old Polish costume. With a four-cornered cap adorned by a waving heron plume, silken "contuschi" that fell in graceful folds around well-shaped limbs clad in tight silk hose, short boots decorated with gold lace, and a curved, diamond-hilted sabre swinging lightly by his side, Paul walked among the men present, the noblest figure of them all; and many whispering inquiries were interchanged as to his identity. At length Paul caught sight of a graceful figure, robed in the silver-gray habit of a nun, standing solitary by the entrance of a corridor leading from the ball-room. He watched and saw her with a pretty shake of her head repel in silence the addresses of three cavaliers in succession. As Paul drew near, the lady suddenly turned her head and flashed a glance at him through the eyelet-holes of her black silk vizard. That glance was sufficient, and in another moment he was by her side. "Fair lady," he whispered, "why this sad costume?" "Is it not the garb of innocence?" returned the lady in a low and obviously disguised voice. "True, but it is also the negation of love." "And why should I not frown upon love?" "Because you would be gainsaying the vows you made to me in the old Greek temple." "Ah, Paul! you have discovered me," she whispered, her lips smiling beneath the lace of her mask. "Now I, in turn, will ask, 'Why this old Polish costume?'" "I adopted what I thought would most please you." "And it does please me," she replied with a tender light in her eyes. "And it is suitable to the character of the revelation you shall hear to-night. Come, we will not dance just yet. Take me to the gardens, to the Long Terrace." Conscious of something odd in her manner, Paul, drawing her arm within his own, conducted Barbara from the brilliant ball-room to the quieter scene without, and on reaching a retired corner of the marble terrace, he seated her beside himself. It was a lovely midsummer night. The air was pure and temperate, and alive with the plash and sparkle of numerous fountains. The silver orb of the moon, set in a dark-blue sky, and the colored lamps gleaming everywhere among the foliage combined to produce a poetical glamor that might have gladdened the eyes even of Titania herself, the Queen of Fairyland.