ing glance at herself in the mirror, and arranged the fall
of a deep fringe of gold lace which was fastened in her hair.

"She knows nothing of it," said the boy, adjusting his sword-knot. "She
thought our hussars wore white dolmans, and carried straight swords like
the cuirassiers."

"And the dear, simple creature asked me, in one of her letters, if I
ever wore wild-flowers in my hair now, as I used to do long ago," said
Kate, stealing another glance at the glass. "Flowers are pretty things
in the head when rubies make the pinks, and the dewdrops are all
diamonds."

Frank looked at her as she said this, and for the first time saw the
proud elation her features assumed when excited by a theme of vanity.

"You are greatly changed, dearest Kate," said he, thoughtfully.

"Is it for the worse, Frank?" said she, half coquettishly.

"Oh! as to beauty, you are a thousand times handsomer," cried the boy,
with enthusiasm. "I know not how, but every expression seems heightened,
every feature more elevated; your air and gesture, your very voice, that
once I thought was music itself, is far sweeter and softer."

"What a flatterer!" said she, patting his cheek.

"But then, Kate," said he, more gravely, "have these fascinations cost
nothing? Is your heart as simple? Are your affections as pure? Ah! you
sigh--and what a heavy sigh, too! Poor, poor Kate!"

And she laid her head upon his shoulder, while the heaving swell of her
bosom told what sorrow the moment was costing her.

"Nelly, then, told you of my betrothal?" whispered she, in a weak, faint
voice.

"No; I knew nothing of that. She told me all about the life you were
leading; the great people with whom you were intimate; and bit by bit,
a hint, some little allusion, would creep out as to the state of your
heart. Perhaps she never meant it, or did not know it; but I remarked,
in reading her letters over and over,--they were the solace of many a
weary hour,--that one name recurred so often in connection with yours,
you must have frequently referred to him yourself, for in each extract
from your letters I saw the name."

"This was strange. It must have been through inadvertence," said she,
musingly. "I thought I had scarcely spoken of him."

"See how your hand told truth, even against your consciousness," said
he, smiling.

Kate made no reply, but sat deep in thought.

"And is he here? When shall I see him?" asked Frank, impatiently.

"No, Frank. He is in Italy;