extreme delicacy of her sensibilities,--these were
the themes he dwelt upon, and Frank felt that they must be rare gifts
indeed, when the very description of them could be so pleasurable.

From what the Abbe said, so far from her marriage with the great Russian
being a piece of fortune, she had but to choose her position amid the
first houses of Europe.

"It was true," he added, "that the 'Midchekoff's' wealth was like
royalty, and as he united to immense fortune great claims of personal
merit, the alliance had everything to recommend it."

"And this is so?" cried Frank, eagerly. "The Prince is a fine fellow?"

"Generous and munificent to an extent almost fabulous," said D'Esmonde,
who seemed rather to resume his own train of thought than reply to
Frank's question. "The splendor of his life has already canonized a
proverb."

"But his temper--his manner--his disposition?"

"Like all his countrymen, he is reserved, almost cold to strangers; his
intimates, however, talk of him as frankness and candor itself. Even on
political themes, where Russians are usually most guarded, he gives his
opinions freely and manfully, and, strange enough too, with a liberality
which, though common enough in our country, must be very rare indeed in
his."

"That is strange!" said Frank, thoughtfully.

"Yes," said D' Esmonde, dropping into the tone of one who insensibly
poured out his inmost thoughts in soliloquizing,----"Yes, he feels,
what we all do, that this state of things cannot last,--disparity of
condition may become too palpable and too striking. The contrast between
affluence and misery may display itself too offensively! Men may one
day or other refuse to sign a renewal of the bond of servitude, and
then--and then----"

"A civil war, I suppose," cried Frank, quietly; "but the troops will
always give them a lesson."

"Do you think so, my dear young friend?" said the Abbe, affectionately;
"do you not rather think that soldiers will begin to learn that they are
citizens, and that, when forging fetters for others, the metal can be
fashioned into chains for themselves?"

"But they have an oath," said the boy; "they 've sworn to their
allegiance."

"Very true, so they have; but what is the oath?--the one half of the
compact which cannot be supposed binding when the other half be broken.
Let the social policy of a government fail in its great object,----the
happiness of a people; let a whole nation gradually cease to enjoy th