people! How they will jeer at the lofty Mistress Cecil
selling herself--for--they know not what!"

"Lessened!" repeated Frances; "on the contrary. You certainly do
sacrifice yourself to fulfil this contract; but that deserves praise.
Besides, Burrell is a man whom many admire."

"There, talk not of it, Frances--talk not of it: henceforth, the world
and I are two--I mix no more in it, nor with it."

"Now, out upon you for a most silly lady!" retorted Lady Frances. "It
may be my fate, despite the affection I bear _poor_ Rich (I like the
linking of these words), to wed some other man--one who will please my
father and benefit the state. Is not the misery of being chained to a
thing you loathe and detest sufficient cause for trouble, without
emulating bats and owls! No, no; if I must be ironed, I will cover my
fetters with flowers--they shall be perfumed, and tricked, and trimmed.
I shall see you gay at court, dear Constance. Besides, if you are to be
married, you must not twine willow with your bridal roses--that will
never do."

There was no smile upon Constantia's lips at her friend's kind and
continued efforts to remove the weight that pressed upon her heart.

"This is the last night that I can dare trust myself to speak of Walter.
Frances," she said, after a long pause, "I have no fears for his
personal safety, because I know with whom he left this house: but, one
thing I would say; and if, my dearest, kindest friend, I have not prated
to you of my sorrows--joys, alas! I have not to communicate--it is
because I must not. With all the childish feeling of a girl you have a
woman's heart, true and susceptible, as ever beat in woman's bosom. I
know you have thought me cold and reserved; an iceberg, where nothing
else was ice:--true, I am chilled by circumstances, not by nature. I am
sure you can remember when my step was as light, and my voice as happy,
though not as mirthful, as your own: but the lightness and the
mirthfulness have passed:--only, Frances, when the world dyes my name in
its own evil colour, I pray you say----" She paused as if in great
perplexity.

"Say what? Surely all the world can say is, that you did what thousands
of devoted girls have done before you--married to fulfil a contract,"
observed Lady Frances, who well knew that some deadly poison rankled in
her heart, and almost overturned her reason.

"True, true," repeated Constance--"I had forgotten; for I am, as you may
see, bewildered by my m