kill the queen
that was so kind to him all along."

"I don't wonder that that should surprise you, my dear; but he was not
aware of what he was doing. It was in the dark."

"In the dark! But I could see very well who it was, though I did not
know her so well as he did, and was so much farther off."

"I am afraid you are in the dark, too, a little as yet," said Lady
Gayland, (tapping her gently with her fan.) "But, tell me, did you not
admire the singing, though you could not understand the story."

"Why, I should, perhaps, if I had known the language; but even then they
seemed to me more like birds, than men and women singing words. I like a
song that I can make out every word that's said."

"The curtain then rose for the ballet; at first, Lucy was delighted with
the scenery and pageantry, for the spectacle was grand and imposing. But
at length the resounding plaudits announced the _entree_ of the perfect
Taglioni. Lucy was a little astonished at her costume upon her first
appearance. She was attired as a goddess, and goddesses' gowns are
somewhat of the shortest, and their legs rather _au naturel_; but when
she came to elicit universal admiration by pointing her toe, and
revolving in the slow _pirouette_, Lucy, from the situation in which she
sat was overpowered with shame at the effect; and whilst Lady Gayland,
with her _longnette_ fixed on the stage, ejaculated, 'Beautiful!
inimitable!' the unpractised Lucy could not help exclaiming, 'O that is
too bad! I cannot stay to see that!' and she turned her head away
blushing deeply."

"Is your ladyship ill?" exclaimed Lord Stayinmore. "Castleton, I am
afraid Lady Castleton feels herself indisposed."

"Would you like to go?" kindly inquired Castleton.

"O so much!" she answered.

"Are you ill, my dear?" asked Lady Gayland.

"Oh, no!" she said.

"Then you had better stay, it is so beautiful."

"Thank you, Lord Castleton is kind enough to let me go."

(They get into the carriage.)

"And how do you find yourself now, my dear Lucy?" tenderly inquired
Castleton, as the carriage drove off.

"Oh, I am quite well, thank you."

"Quite well! are you? What was it, then, that was the matter with you?"

"There was nothing the matter with me, it was that woman."

"What woman? what can you mean? Did you not say that you were ill; and
was not that the reason that we hurried away?"

"No! YOU said I was ill; and I did not contradict you, because you tell
me that in the