ent and pale, and with a look
I had never seen before of unrelenting, passionate, pitiless love.

"'Oh,' sighed Lina, 'it was hard, with no one to take my part! but the
hardest was yet to come.

"'Days and weeks passed on, and I was miserable beyond what I can tell
you. Nothing more was said on the subject, however, except by Frank, who
tortured me by alternate entreaties and reproaches, and sometimes by
occasional fits of thoughtfulness and kindness, in which he would leave
me to myself, only appealing to me by unobtrusive acts of courtesy and
devotion, which gave me more pain than either reproach or entreaty. But
if it had not been for these days of comparative calm and quiet, I
should hardly have been able to bear what followed. As it was, I had
time to collect my strength and plan my line of conduct.

"'One night my father called me into his room. I saw by his manner that
he was much excited. My mother was there also; she looked alarmed, and
glanced from my father to me anxiously and inquiringly. You know mamma
has very little strength of character, Madame. I could not hope for help
from her; so I called up all my resolution, knowing that some trial was
before me. I can hardly tell you what I heard then, Madame, it was such
disgrace,' said Lina, raising her eyes slowly and fixing them a moment
on mine, while a sudden, curious, embarrassed expression passed over her
face, such as is accompanied in other persons by a painful flush, but
which left her face pale and cold, causing no change in color.

"'My father told me, Madame, that some unfortunate speculations which he
had undertaken, and in which he had used the fortune of Frank intrusted
to his care, had failed, and that, when Frank became four-and-twenty, at
which time, according to his father's will, he was to enter upon his
property, his own wrong-doing would be discovered, and thence-forward he
would be at the mercy of his ward. Frank had, indeed, already learned
how great a wrong had been done him. My mother clung to me, weakly
pouring forth laudations on the generosity of Frank, who, through his
affection for me, was willing to forgive all this injury. Was I not
grateful? Why did I not go to him and tell him that the devotion of my
life would be a poor recompense for such generosity? Oh, Madame, it was
dreadful! I was not grateful at all; I hated him; and the misery of
having to decide thus the fate of my father was intolerable.'

"'But what did the young