me
entered not my ear. I was as far away from them as if pillowed on the
clouds, whose silver edges crinkled round the moon.

As soon as our guests had departed, Ernest went up to Edith, and putting
his arm round her, drew her to the harp.

"Sing for me, Edith, for my spirit is dark and troubled. You alone have
power to soothe it. You are the David of the haunted Saul."

She looked up in his face suddenly, and leaned her head on his shoulder.
Perhaps at that moment she felt the joy of being to him all that she had
been, before he had known and loved me. He had appealed to her, in the
hour of darkness. He had passed me by, as though I were not there. He
sat down close to her as she played, so close that her fair ringlets
swept against his cheek; and as she sang, she turned towards him with
such a loving smile,--such a sweet, happy expression,--just as she used
to wear! I always loved to hear Edith sing; but now my spirit did not
harmonize with the strains. Again a stinging sense of injustice
quickened the pulsations of my heart. Again I asked myself, "What had I
done, that he should look coldly on me, pass me with averted eye, and
seek consolation from another?"

I could not sit still and listen, for I was left _alone_. I rose and
stole from the room,--stole out into the dewy night, under the heavy,
drooping shade-boughs, and sat down wearily, leaning my head against the
hard, rough bark. Never had I seen a more enchanting night. A thin mist
rose from the bosom of the valley and hovered like a veil of silvery
gauze over its rich depth of verdure. It floated round the edge of the
horizon, subduing its outline of dazzling blue, and rolled off among the
hills in soft, yet darkening convolutions. And high above me, serene and
holy, the moon leaned over a ledge of slate-colored clouds, whose margin
was plated with her beams, and looked pensively and solemnly on the pale
and sad young face uplifted to her own. The stilly dews slept at my
feet. They hung tremulously on the branches over my head, and sparkled
on the spring blossoms that gave forth their inmost perfume to the
atmosphere of night. Every thing was so calm, so peaceful, so intensely
lovely,--and yet there was something deadly and chilling mingled with
the celestial beauty of the scene. The lace clung in damp folds to my
bosom. The hair fell heavy with moisture against my temples.

I heard a step softly crushing the grass near me. I did not look up, for
I though