hese brief words, and then went back, while we passed in to the
apartment where the dead woman was still lying.

As I looked upon her face again, it seemed even more ghastly than
before; and I could hardly repress a shudder. My companion held a
lamp; while I made as careful an examination as was possible under the
circumstances. I did not expect to find any marks of violence, though
I searched for them about her head, neck, and chest. But, under the
circumstances, I felt it to be my duty to know, from actual search, that
no such signs existed. In every aspect presented by the corpse, there
was a corroboration of the story related by the serving man. It was
plain, that in a fit of half insane, uncontrollable passion, the nice
adjustment of physical forces had been lost.

"I am fully satisfied, madam," said I, at length, turning from my
unpleasant task.

She let her calm, earnest eyes dwell on mine for a few moments, and then
answered, with a softened tone, in which there was just a perceptible
thrill of feeling--

"If I were a believer in omens, I should take this sad incident,
following so quickly on our removal to a new country and a new home, as
foreshadowing evil to me or mine. But I do not so read external events."

"Between a life like hers, and a life like yours, madam, there can be
no possible nearness; nor any relation between your spiritual affinities
and hers. The antipodes are not farther apart," said I, in return;
"therefore, nothing that has befallen her can be ominous as to you."

"I trust not," she gravely answered, as we left the room together.

To my inquiry if I could serve her in any way, in the present matter,
she simply requested me to send a respectable undertaker, who would
perform what was fitting in the last rites due to the dead.

I promised, and retired.

CHAPTER VIII.

The appearance, manner, and bearing of the two strangers impressed
me strongly. The elder had evidently moved in refined and cultivated
society all her life. There was about her the air of "a lady, born and
bred"--dignified, calm, easy, and courteous. The daughter was a lovely
blossom on this stately stem--delicate, beautiful, sweet with the odors
of innocence. I see her now as I saw her on that first night of our
meeting--to my eyes a new born vision of loveliness.

I found Constance awaiting, with curious interest, my return. I was
going right into the heart of this new wonder, and could not fail
to bring