ly with my directions.'

'Do not doubt me, my dear Doctor.'

Schulembourg seated himself at the table, and wrote a few lines, which
he handed to his patient.

Walstein smiled as he read the prescription.

'Dr. de Schulembourg requests the honour of the Baron de Walstein's
company at dinner, to-morrow at two o'clock.'

Walstein smiled and looked a little perplexed, but he remembered his
promise. 'I shall, with pleasure, become your guest, Doctor.'

CHAPTER II.

_Containing Some Future Conversation_

WALSTEIN did not forget his engagement with his friendly physician. The
house of Schulembourg was the most beautiful mansion in Dresden. It was
situated in a delicious garden in the midst of the park, and had been
presented to him by a grateful sovereign. It was a Palladian villa,
which recalled the Brenda to the recollection of Walstein, with flights
of marble steps, airy colonnades, pediments of harmonious proportion,
all painted with classic frescoes. Orange trees clustered in groups upon
the terrace, perfumed the summer air, rising out of magnificent vases
sculptured in high relief; and amid the trees, confined by silver chains
were rare birds of radiant plumage, rare birds with prismatic eyes and
bold ebon beaks, breasts flooded with crimson, and long tails of violet
and green. The declining sun shone brightly in the light blue sky,
and threw its lustre upon the fanciful abode, above which, slight and
serene, floated the airy crescent of the young white moon.

'My friend, too, I perceive, is a votary of the Ideal,' exclaimed
Walstein.

The carriage stopped. Walstein mounted the marble steps and was ushered
through a hall, wherein was the statue of a single nymph, into an
octagonal apartment. Schulembourg himself had not arrived. Two men moved
away, as he was announced, from a lady whom they attended. The lady was
Madame de Schulembourg, and she came forward, with infinite grace, to
apologise for the absence of her husband, and to welcome her guest.

Her appearance was very remarkable. She was young and strangely
beautiful. Walstein thought that he had never beheld such lustrous locks
of ebon hair shading a countenance of such dazzling purity. Her
large and deep blue eyes gleamed through their long black lashes. The
expression of her face was singularly joyous. Two wild dimples played
like meteors on her soft round cheeks. A pink veil worn over her head
was carelessly tied under her chin, and faste