ay be against me."

"Of such a feeling no one could suspect Miriam Monfort," he said,
gallantly; whispering low in the next moment, "one year has made strange
improvement in your beauty, Miriam--you are hardly the same little dark,
quick, yet quiet girl, I parted with when I went to Copenhagen. There is
so much more pose and majesty--more sweetness about you now--and Evelyn
too is changed--oh! sadly--sadly!"

"I have sometimes feared," I said, keeping down, as best I might; the
emotions conflicting in my bosom--"feared that she might be delicate,
and that her energies consumed her; you must control these, Claude!"

"I!--why, what on earth can I have to do with Miss Erle and her
energies? you speak in enigmas, Miriam!"

He was evidently embarrassed by the cool, incredulous look I dropped
upon him. "I had supposed every thing was settled some time ago," I
observed, quietly; "however, I will not bore you with conjectures or
questions, I shall hear every thing, of course, when the proper time
comes; until then, I shall hope to act out Milton's noble line, and
'stand and wait.' And now, if you have a few minutes to spare, do give
me the _resume_ of your experience at Copenhagen. What of the
climate--what of the people--what of the court? Are the women pretty or
plain, as a general thing--and had Hamlet light or dark hair, think you,
from present indications in the royal family? Or is it the same blood?
For you know that I have an enthusiasm about Denmark! It is such a
little, valiant, fiery, dominant state, and their _sagas_ of the
sea-kings set my blood on flame. This always was a weakness of mine, you
remember."

"Yes, I recollect perfectly how you used to run on about Elsinore. Well,
I went there frequently, Miriam, and can tell you all about the dreary,
decayed old town, to your utmost satisfaction. Even your romance would
fail, could you behold it now."

And Claude evinced considerable power, as a word-painter, in the hour
that followed, during the early part of which Mabel appeared at the
door, was silently beckoned in by me, to remain a quiet and delighted
listener, almost to the end of the interview, when Mrs. Austin suddenly
summoned her away; and again Claude Bainrothe and I were left for a few
minutes _tete-a-tete_. When my visitor departed, or rose to do so, we
shook hands frankly; and I thought, on the whole, he seemed grateful for
my mode of treatment, and the interest I had shown in his narrative--so
en