ve ever worshiped. What need of long
acquaintanceship between hearts made for each other? Lady, I love
you!"

"Sir, sir, I beg you to pause. You know not what you are saying--you
cannot mean that--"

"But I tell you he does mean it, though," exclaimed a merry voice
close at the lady's elbow; and turning round, she saw her mischievous
brother-in-law, who had been demurely following their tardy footsteps.

"Brother! you here! I--really--am quite astonished!"

"And," interrupted the stranger, while a dark flush came over his
face, "allow me to say, Squire Deerdale, that I also am astonished at
this violation of the rights of a friendship even so old and sincere
as ours."

"Well, well, I beg your pardon, fair lady; and as for you, sir, after
you have heard my explanation, I shall be prepared to give you any
satisfaction you may require. You must know, then, my dear old friend,
that from a few careless words I dropped last evening, by way of joke,
this young lady has imbibed the idea that you are the young Duke of
St. James in disguise; and for the purpose of preventing any
misunderstandings for the future, it is requisite that my sister and
my friend Walter Willie, the artist, should comprehend one another's
position fully."

"Good heavens! madam, you cannot believe that I was accessory to this
mad prank of your brother's? Do not believe it for the world."

"No, no, I acquit you and every body but myself. I am sure I intended
no harm by my thoughtless joke. Come, come, make up the matter at
once, so that I may hasten back to Alice, who will begin to grow
jealous, directly."

"Madam, dear madam, (Hortensia turned away her head with an imperious
gesture,) I have only to beg your pardon for having too long intruded
upon your attention, and to take my leave. The poor artist must still
worship his ideal at a distance. For him there is but the world of
imagination. No such bright reality as being beloved rests in his
gloomy future. Farewell!" and the young man, bowing for a moment over
the hand of Hortensia, withdrew.

"Brother, brother, what have you done!" passionately exclaimed the
beauty, in a voice choked by sobs. "For a foolish joke you have driven
away the only being who has ever interested my lonely heart. And now I
can never, never be happy again."

"But, dear Hortensia, would you stoop to love a mere artist?"

"Stoop, sir,--stoop! I know not what you mean. Think you so meanly of
me as to believe I would s