red, laughing. "And I shall call
it--what is that line in Keats?--Mid-May's Eldest Child!"

"I don't remember," said the lady, "that mamma ever told me it was like
this."

"Mamma never told you anything disagreeable. And it 's not like
this--every day. You will see that to-morrow we shall have a splendid
day."

"Qu'en savez-vous? To-morrow I shall go away."

"Where shall you go?"

"Anywhere away from here. Back to Silberstadt. I shall write to the
Reigning Prince."

The young man turned a little and looked at her, with his crayon poised.
"My dear Eugenia," he murmured, "were you so happy at sea?"

Eugenia got up; she still held in her hand the drawing her brother had
given her. It was a bold, expressive sketch of a group of miserable
people on the deck of a steamer, clinging together and clutching at each
other, while the vessel lurched downward, at a terrific angle, into
the hollow of a wave. It was extremely clever, and full of a sort of
tragi-comical power. Eugenia dropped her eyes upon it and made a sad
grimace. "How can you draw such odious scenes?" she asked. "I should
like to throw it into the fire!" And she tossed the paper away. Her
brother watched, quietly, to see where it went. It fluttered down to the
floor, where he let it lie. She came toward the window, pinching in
her waist. "Why don't you reproach me--abuse me?" she asked. "I think
I should feel better then. Why don't you tell me that you hate me for
bringing you here?"

"Because you would not believe it. I adore you, dear sister! I am
delighted to be here, and I am charmed with the prospect."

"I don't know what had taken possession of me. I had lost my head,"
Eugenia went on.

The young man, on his side, went on plying his pencil. "It is evidently
a most curious and interesting country. Here we are, and I mean to enjoy
it."

His companion turned away with an impatient step, but presently came
back. "High spirits are doubtless an excellent thing," she said; "but
you give one too much of them, and I can't see that they have done you
any good."

The young man stared, with lifted eyebrows, smiling; he tapped his
handsome nose with his pencil. "They have made me happy!"

"That was the least they could do; they have made you nothing else. You
have gone through life thanking fortune for such very small favors that
she has never put herself to any trouble for you."

"She must have put herself to a little, I think, to present me with so
adm