wrist, where the blue
veins were running riot.

"So young,--yet cataleptic! Unfortunate, indeed," he murmured.

She shook off his touch, and instantly sat erect.

"I should be glad to know what you mean."

"I have an admirable, nay, I venture to add, an almost infallible
prescription for catalepsy, which has cured two chronic and apparently
hopeless cases, and it will afford me great pleasure to try the third
experiment upon you, since you seem pitiably in want of a remedy."

"Thank you. Were I as free from all other ills that 'flesh is heir
to,' as I certainly am of the taint of catalepsy, I might indeed
congratulate myself upon an immunity which would obviate the dire
necessity of ever meeting a physician."

"Are you sure that you sufficiently understand the symptoms, to
recognize them unerringly?"

The rose tint in her cheeks deepened to scarlet, as she haughtily drew
herself up to her full height, and answered,--

"Dr. Grey himself is not more sagacious and adroit in detecting them;
especially when open eyes discover unwelcome and disagreeable objects,
which, wishing to avoid, they are still compelled to see. I hope you
are satisfied that I comprehend you."

"My meaning was not so occult as to justify a doubt upon that subject;
and moreover, Salome, lack of astuteness is far from being your
greatest defect. My motive should eloquently plead pardon for my
candor, if I venture to tell you that your frequent affectation of
unconsciousness of the presence of others, 'is a custom more honored
in the breach than the observance,' and may prove prolific of
annoyance in coming years; for courtesy constitutes the keystone in
the beautiful arch of social amenities which vaults the temple of
Christian virtues. Lest you should take umbrage at my frankness, which
ought to assure you of my interest in your happiness and improvement,
permit me to remind you of the oriental definition of a faithful
friend, that has more pith than verbal polish,--

"The true friend is not he who holds up Flattery's mirror,
In which the face to thy conceit most pleasing hovers;
But he who kindly shows thee all thy vices, sirrah!
And helps thee mend them ere an enemy discovers."

Rising, Salome swept him a profound courtesy, and, while her fingers
beat a tattoo on the book she held, she watched him with a peculiar
sparkle in her eyes, which he had already learned to understand was a
beacon flame kindled by intense displeasure