lence
equally trying to both,--

"This strange conduct on my part, sir, will show you, more than any
explanation, my sincerity, and the perfect confidence with which you
have inspired me."

She paused, but De Breulh made no reply, for he was perfectly mystified.

"You are," she continued, "my parents' intimate friend, and must have
seen the discomforts of our domestic hearth, and that though both my
father and mother are living, I am as desolate as the veriest orphan."

Fearing that M. de Breulh might not understand her reason for speaking
thus, she threw a shade of haughtiness into her manner as she resumed,--

"My reason, sir, for seeing you to-day is to ask,--nay, to entreat
you, to release me from my engagement to you, and to take the whole
responsibility of the rupture on yourself."

Man of the world as he was, M. de Breulh could not conceal his surprise,
in which a certain amount of wounded self-love was mingled.

"Mademoiselle!" commenced he--

Sabine interrupted him.

"I am asking a great favor, and your granting it will spare me many
hours of grief and sadness, and," she added, as a faint smile flickered
across her pallid features, "I am aware that I am asking but a trifling
sacrifice on your part. You know scarcely anything of me, and therefore
you can only feel indifference toward me."

"You are mistaken," replied the young man gravely; "and you do not judge
me rightly. I am not a mere boy, and always consider a step before I
take it; and if I asked for your hand, it was because I had learned to
appreciate the greatness both of your heart and intellect; and I believe
that if you would condescend to accept me, we could be very happy
together."

The girl seemed about to speak, but De Breulh continued,--

"It seems, however, that I have in some way displeased you,--I do not
know how; but, believe me, it will be a source of sorrow to me for the
rest of my life."

De Breulh's sincerity was so evident, that Mademoiselle de Mussidan was
deeply affected.

"You have not displeased me in any way," answered she softly, "and are
far too good for me. To have become your wife would have made me a proud
and happy woman."

Here she stopped, almost choked by her tears, but M. de Breulh wished to
fathom this mystery.

"Why then this resolve?" asked he.

"Because," replied Sabine faintly, as she hid her face,--"because I have
given all my love to another."

The young man uttered an exclamation so full of