ut my whole heart into the bosom
of some faithful friend."

"Do so in this instance, my dear," said Mme. Morrel, persuasively. "I
trust I am a faithful friend, as well as a discreet one."

"I believe you," rejoined Zuleika. "Ever since you have been in our
house I have felt so and longed to make you my confidante, but I have
hesitated to take such a step, fearing to burden you with troubles that
might distress you."

"Have no further fears on that score then, but speak freely and with the
certainty that in your sorrows, whatever they may be, you will find me a
sincere sympathizer and comforter."

Zuleika took Valentine's hand, and, gazing into her face with tearful
eyes, said:

"You have noticed that I had sorrows, Mme. Morrel?"

"Yes; how could I help it? But I have done more; I have divined their
cause!"

Zuleika gave a slight start.

"Divined their cause, Mme. Morrel?"

"Yes," answered Valentine. "You are in love!"

The young girl blushed, but appeared relieved. Mme. Morrel had divined
her love, had divined that her sorrows arose from it, but she had not
divined the nature of the shadow that clouded her budding life and
filled her with grief and apprehension.

"Zuleika," continued Valentine, with the utmost tenderness and
consideration, "I, too, have loved, deeply and desperately; I, too, have
felt all the bitter pangs that arise from separation; but I have
realized my dream at last, and the shadows that surrounded me have been
swept away by the blessed sunshine of union and happiness. Confide in
me, my child. If I cannot drive your shadows from you, I can at least
give you true sympathy and the consolation that it affords."

"They will be welcome to me, unspeakably welcome, madame," replied
Zuleika, tremulously.

"Then tell me all."

"I cannot, madame; I have no right to; but I can tell you enough to
wring your heart, to show you how unfortunate I am."

"My poor girl, I understand and appreciate your scruples. You do not
wish to compromise your lover, and you are right. Your decision does you
honor. Is the man you love in Paris?"

"Alas! no. I believe he is in Rome."

"Then you do not know his whereabouts with certainty?"

"No, madame."

"Does your father disapprove of his suit?"

"He did not at the outset, but very painful circumstances have since
arisen, causing him to alter his determination, or, at least, hold his
consent in abeyance. Still, I think, he believes Giovanni can and will