us no more. Confide in me and ask no questions. It
is all decided and arranged in my mind. But hark! do you hear nothing?"

Anna's face was transfused with a purple glow, and her eyes flashed.

"It is my beloved," said she. "Yes, it is he. I know his step!"

Julia smilingly opened the concealed door, and Count Lynar, with a cry
of joy, rushed to the feet of his beloved.

"At length!" he exclaimed, clasping her feet, and pressing them to his
bosom.

"Yes, at length!" murmured Anna, looking down upon him with a celestial
smile.

Julia stood at a distance, contemplating them with thoughtful glances.

"They should be happy," she murmured low, and then asked aloud: "Count
Lynar, did you receive my letter?"

"I did receive it," said the count, "and may God reward you for the
sacrifice you are so generously disposed to make for us! Anna, your
friend Julia is our good angel. To her we shall owe it if our happiness
is henceforth indestructible and indissoluble. Do you know the immense
sacrifice this young maiden proposes to make for us?"

"No, Princess Anna knows nothing, and shall know nothing of it," said
Julia, with a grand air. "Princess Anna shall only know that I love her,
and am ready to give my life for her. And now," she continued, with
her natural gayety, "forget me, ye happy lovers! Lull yourselves in
the sweet enjoyment of nameless ecstasies! I go to watch the spies, and
especially your husband, lest he break in upon you without notice!"

And Julia suddenly left the room, shutting the door upon Anna
Leopoldowna and her lover, the Polish Count Lynar.

NO LOVE

Prince Ulrich of Brunswick, the husband of the regent, had assembled
the officers of his general staff for a secret conference. Their dark,
threatening glances were prophetic of mischief, and angrily flashed the
eyes of the prince, who, standing in their midst, had spoken to them in
glowing words of his domestic unhappiness, and of the idle, dreamy, and
amatory indolence into which the regent had fallen.

"She writes amorous complainings," he now said, with a voice of rage,
in closing his long speech--"she writes sonnets to her lover, instead of
governing and reading the petitions, reports, and other documents
that come to her from the different ministries and bureaus, which she
constantly returns unread. You are men, and are you willing to bear
the humiliation of being governed by a woman who dishonors you by
disregarding her first and holi