id the father, looking proudly, in
spite of all his austerity, upon his beautiful daughter as she stood by
his side. 'But what affects you?' he added, noticing her confusion.
'You tremble; your colour comes and goes; your lips quiver. Give me
your hand!'

As Antonina obeyed him, a fold of the treacherous robe slipped aside,
and discovered a part of the frame of the lute. Numerian's quick eye
discovered it immediately. He snatched the instrument from her feeble
grasp. His astonishment on beholding it was too great for words, and
for an instant he confronted the poor girl, whose pale face looked
rigid with terror, in ominous and expressive silence.

'This thing,' said he at length, 'this invention of libertines in my
house--in my daughter's possession!' and he dashed the lute into
fragments on the floor.

For one moment Antonina looked incredulously on the ruins of the
beloved companion, which was the centre of all her happiest
expectations for future days. Then, as she began to estimate the
reality of her deprivation, her eyes lost all their heaven-born
brightness, and filled to overflowing with the tears of earth.

'To your chamber!' thundered Numerian, as she knelt, sobbing
convulsively, over those hapless fragments. 'To your chamber!
Tomorrow shall bring this mystery of iniquity to light!'

She rose humbly to obey him, for indignation had no part in the
emotions that shook her gentle and affectionate nature. As she moved
towards the room that no lute was henceforth to occupy, as she thought
on the morrow that no lute was henceforth to enliven, her grief almost
overpowered her. She turned back and looked imploringly at her father,
as if entreating permission to pick up even the smallest of the
fragments at his feet.

'To your chamber!' he reiterated sternly. 'Am I to be disobeyed to my
face?'

Without any repetition of her silent remonstrance, she instantly
retired. As soon as she was out of sight, Ulpius ascended the steps
and stood before the angered father.

'Look, Ulpius,' cried Numerian, 'my daughter, whom I have so carefully
cherished, whom I intended for an example to the world, has deceived
me, even thus!'

He pointed, as he spoke, to the ruins of the unfortunate lute; but
Ulpius did not address to him a word in reply, and he hastily
continued:--

'I will not sully the solemn offices of tonight by interrupting them
with my worldly affairs. To-morrow I will interrogate my disobedient
ch