-neither in Heaven nor in Hell! We are mocked!

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Yesterday, to-day, this morning, an hour ago—an age ago-Hope lived. But when he-and he ever, and still ever he !-he that had not moved a hand, nor stirred a foot-oh heaven and earth! . . . . when the ring which it had robbed from mine, his Evil Genius and my own dropped into his loose, idle hand, then the deathblow flashed in my eyes and fell. Dead! Hope is dead.

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"No more praying. What have we prayed for? Let the angels go back to their Heaven empty-handed as they leave us to our earth.

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"Night every where, and forever.

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"Night on my eyes, night in my soul. And in this darkness there is no light but the lurid sparkle of that hateful amethyst. * It comes and goes, and passes and returns, like a marsh fire on the And They follow ittroops of them in the wicked glare. And I see the grinning of the demon faces on the dark, and I feel the groping and the clutching of the demon hands about the hollows of my heart.

waste.

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My heart? Is this a heart, this chaos? Felix! Felix! thou-and why thou?-of all others on this mad and miserable earth? Thou only? and still ever Thou!"

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CHAPTER VIII.

AND SOME ARE DRIFTED TOGETHER, AND SOME ARE DRIFTED ASUNDER.

JULIET TO THERESA.

"MY BEST THERESA!-How shall I tell thee, my friend, my sister—what words, even if I could stop to find them, might avail to tell thee all that has happened all that Is? How surpassing must be my happiness! for if the feeling of it were less rare, there must have been a language and a name for it, and I can find none.

"Yet my hand trembles not; my heart does not beat faster than before. This joy is calm, because it is complete. There is a light upon my soul, and a stillness in my thoughts; and I know, by the stillness and the light within, that the Spirit of Joy is sleeping safe. What birth-throes must bring to the pure and perfect crystal the slowly-formed and darkly-working splendors of the diamond. And what painful agitations, in these last few days even, have preceded the perfect concentration of my heart's complete content!

"Yes, I believe in the magic power of the ring. For surely now-but thou thyself shalt judge, my Theresa, if this old amulet of the Pagan East have not shed benignant influence on one who is now, and henceforth, the very happiest and most joyful child of all the Christian West. Let me tell thee all.

"Early in the morning of the day after that in which I lost my ring-and my last letter must have then been already on its way to you-we were awaked by the blowing of horns and the baying of hounds in the great court of the quadrangle. Our neighbors, who were resolved to run a stag that morning, had taken us quite by surprise. However, mother was up at once, and we both dressed ourselves in haste to receive them. Felix and Edmond had been beforehand with us. When we got down stairs, we found the whole party already at breakfast in the armor-room, where a fire had been lighted for them; for the morning was chilly, and the sun only just up.

"Felix was entirely absorbed in arranging the details of the chase. His picker was standing near him; and it was only at the last moment, when he turned round to take the horn and the hunting-knife from the picker, that he noticed me standing before the hearth, and put out his hand to bid me good-morning.

"The hunting party were just going to start, and one of our guests, as he crossed the room, suddenly exclaimed, 'Why, look at this! The picture has taken life.' And at the same time he pointed, laughing, to the old hunting-picture that hangs over the great fireplace-you remember it?—in the armory.

"Every body looked up. And, indeed, we were all struck by the similarity. For the picture, as you know, represents, in the life-size, a sportsman, and a lady from whose hand he is receiving, with all the gallantry of attitude which belonged to our grandfather's grandfathers, his belt and bugle-horn. Really Felix looked the counterpart of the painted sportsman

(minus, I need not say, the praiseworthy gallantry of that exemplary image which for half a century at least had been waiting on bended knee for the lady's favor); and I, with a slight change of dress I think, might have very well passed for the Châtelaine herself.

"Come,' cried another, 'complete the picture, Felix. Down on one knee with you, and let the lady arm you.'

"Oh!' said I-for on the pavement just at my feet, and between me and Felix, the draught through the open door had strewn a long train of ashes from the hearth-'if Felix kneels to me, he will have to get up again with one knee white and the other black; and he is much too vain for that.'

"Of course I am,' says Felix. 'But I think one may be gallant without being dirty.' And, taking out his handkerchief, and throwing it on the floor at my feet, with his usual vivacity he flung himself down, with one knee on this impromptu cushion.

"But in the same instant, as though something had suddenly hurt him, his face twitched; and, staggering up, in the effort to help himself on to his feet, he caught hold of a little table that was standing near him, and both he and the table, with all the bottles, glasses, and dishes on it, were tumbled, clattering, on to the stone. floor. Felix cut his hand badly with the broken glass.

"Edmond lifted him up, examined the wounds, extracted the splinters, and bandaged up the wounded hand with his handkerchief. But it was swollen and painful; and, finding his right hand quite disabled,

Felix, to his great discontent, was obliged at last to yield to our united remonstrances, stay at home, and let Edmond take his place in the field.

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"They were all gone. The house was quiet. More weakened by loss of blood, and the pain of it, than he would admit, Felix had fallen into a feverish, uneasy sleep, with his head still leaning on my shoulder. I could not move without waking him. So I sat still. Mother was making up some bandages for his hand. We talked on under our breath. She was asking me why the grass and mould had been freshly turned up this morning all round the pedestal of the great sphinx in the bowling-green. I knew nothing about it, but supposed it must have something to do with the loss of my ring, which I had left there.

"It was perhaps the midnight work of my betrothed,' I said, laughingly.

"At this Felix woke up.

"Betrothed! Who is betrothed?' he asked, with the sharp, querulous tone of a feverish person.

"Nobody,' said I.

"Mother left the room just then to look for an unguent.

"I told him all that stupid story over again, with as much nonsense as I could contrive to put into it: How Edmond had given me the ring; the destination of it; and how that destination must remain unattained.

"Felix continued looking at me all the while in a strange, unsettling way, with great, wide eyes.

"Betrothed!" he went on murmuring to himself; 'betrothed! And is it possible for you, then, to