d converted his love
into hatred?

She knew not--and conjecture was vain! To a woman of her excitable
temperament, the occurrence was particularly painful. She had never
known the passion of love until she had seen Wagner; and the moment she
did see him, she loved him. The sentiment on her part originated
altogether in the natural sensuality of her disposition; there was
nothing pure--nothing holy--nothing refined in her affection for him; it
was his wonderful personal beauty that had made so immediate and
profound an impression upon her heart.

There was consequently something furious and raging in that passion
which she experienced for Fernand Wagner--a passion capable of every
extreme--the largest sacrifices, or infuriate jealousies--the most
implicit confidence, or the maddest suspicion! It was a passion which
would induce her to ascend the scaffold to save him; or to plunge the
vengeful dagger into his heart did she fancy that he deceived her!

To one, then, whose soul was animated by such a love, the conduct of
Fernand was well adapted to wear even an exaggerated appearance of
singularity; and as each different conjecture swept through her
imagination, her emotions were excited to an extent which caused her
countenance to vary its expressions a hundred times in a minute.

The fury of the desolating torrent, the rage of the terrific volcano,
the sky cradled in the blackest clouds, the ocean heaving tempestuously
in its mighty bed, the chafing of a tremendous flood against an
embankment which seems ready every moment to give way, and allow the
collected waters to burst forth upon the broad plains and into the
peaceful valleys--all these occurrences in the physical world were
imagined by the emotions that now agitated within the breast of the
Italian lady.

Her mind was like the sea put in motion by the wind; and her eyes
flashed fire, her lips quivered, her bosom heaved convulsively, her neck
arched proudly, as if she were struggling against ideas that forced
themselves upon her and painfully wounded her boundless patrician pride.

For the thought that rose uppermost amidst all the conjectures which
rushed to her imagination, was that Fernand had conceived an invincible
dislike toward her.

Wherefore did he fly thus--as if eager to place the greatest possible
distance between herself and him?

Then did she recall to mind every interchange of thought that had passed
between them through the language of the