heart. "My heart beats as violently as if a
mystery were about to be unveiled in my own breast. Do you believe in
presentiments, Sir Cardinal?"

Bernis had not time to answer her. Just at that moment the curtain drew
up, a general "Ah!" of admiration was heard, and, suddenly carried
away by their feelings, the whole audience broke into extravagant
and long-enduring applause, crying and shouting, "_Evviva Corilla!
l'improvisatrice Corilla!_"

And in fact it was an admirable picture which was there presented to the
audience. Those flower-strewed steps led up to an altar, upon the centre
of which, between wreaths of flowers, shot up two dark-red flames.
Against that altar leaned, exalted and august as a Grecian priestess,
the improvisatrice Corilla. Her eyes raised to the heavens, her features
lighted up with a rosy glow by the red flames, her half-raised right
arm resting upon an urn, while her left arm was stretched upward toward
heaven, she thus resembled an inspired priestess, just receiving a
message from on high, listening with ecstasy, with suppressed breath and
parted lips, to the voice of the Deity, and forgetting the world in
a blissful intoxication, she seemed about to take her flight to the
empyrean!

And while Corilla, as if absorbed in spiritual contemplation, continued
to stand immovable there, began the low notes of a harp, which,
gradually becoming fuller and stronger, at length resounded in
powerfully rushing and exultant tones. From Corilla all eyes were now
turned upon Carlo, who, in the light dress of a Greek youth, his harp
upon his arm, was leaning against a pomegranate tree placed in the
background of the stage, and with his pale, serious face, with his
noble, manly features, formed a beautiful contrast to the inspired and
love-beaming priestess Corilla.

Natalie, feeling something like a slight puncture in her heart,
involuntarily carried her hand to her bosom. It was a strange, a
wonderful feeling, which stirred within her, partly partaking of joy at
seeing and hearing her friend Carlo, as people were murmuring praises of
his beauty, and of his great skill upon the harp, and partly a feeling
of painful emotion. She knew not why, but as her glance met his, it
quickly turned toward Corilla, and quite sadly she said to herself: "She
is much handsomer than I!"

Carlo now opened his lips, and to a beautifully simple melody he sweetly
sang an introductory song, as it were to prepare the audience