ons,
had no existence for her any more; and in that dreary void, out of which
Miriam had disappeared, the substance, the truth, the integrity of life,
the motives of effort, the joy of success, had departed along with her.

It was long past noon, when a step came up the staircase. It had passed
beyond the limits where there was communication with the lower regions
of the palace, and was mounting the successive flights which led only to
Hilda's precincts. Faint as the tread was, she heard and recognized it.
It startled her into sudden life. Her first impulse was to spring to
the door of the studio, and fasten it with lock and bolt. But a second
thought made her feel that this would be an unworthy cowardice, on her
own part, and also that Miriam--only yesterday her closest friend had
a right to be told, face to face, that thenceforth they must be forever
strangers.

She heard Miriam pause, outside of the door. We have already seen what
was the latter's resolve with respect to any kiss or pressure of
the hand between Hilda and herself. We know not what became of the
resolution. As Miriam was of a highly impulsive character, it may have
vanished at the first sight of Hilda; but, at all events, she appeared
to have dressed herself up in a garb of sunshine, and was disclosed, as
the door swung open, in all the glow of her remarkable beauty. The truth
was, her heart leaped conclusively towards the only refuge that it had,
or hoped. She forgot, just one instant, all cause for holding herself
aloof. Ordinarily there was a certain reserve in Miriam's demonstrations
of affection, in consonance with the delicacy of her friend. To-day, she
opened her arms to take Hilda in.

"Dearest, darling Hilda!" she exclaimed. "It gives me new life to see
you!"

Hilda was standing in the middle of the room. When her friend made a
step or two from the door, she put forth her hands with an involuntary
repellent gesture, so expressive that Miriam at once felt a great chasm
opening itself between them two. They might gaze at one another from the
opposite side, but without the possibility of ever meeting more; or, at
least, since the chasm could never be bridged over, they must tread
the whole round of Eternity to meet on the other side. There was even
a terror in the thought of their meeting again. It was as if Hilda or
Miriam were dead, and could no longer hold intercourse without violating
a spiritual law.

Yet, in the wantonness of her desp