d I have smiled in thinking of what
these lesser deities would say if they had known what I bear in my breast
to-night."

She did not even make a movement--in truth, she felt that at his next
words she might change to stone.

"I have found it," he said--"I have it here--the lost treasure--the tress
of hair like a raven's wing and six feet long. Is there another woman in
England who could give a man a lock like it?"

She felt then that she had, in sooth, changed to stone; her heart hung
without moving in her breast; her eyes felt great and hollow and staring
as she lifted them to him.

"I knew not," she said slowly, and with bated breath, for the awfulness
of the moment had even made her body weak as she had never known it feel
before--"I knew not truly that hell made things like you."

Whereupon he made a movement forward, and the crowd about surged nearer
with hasty exclamations, for the strange weakness of her body had
overpowered her in a way mysterious to her, and she had changed to
marble, growing too heavy of weight for her sinking limbs. And those in
the surrounding groups saw a marvellous thing--the same being that my
Lady Dunstanwolde swayed as she turned, and falling, lay stretched, as if
dead, in her white and silver and flashing jewels at the startled
beholders' feet.

* * * * *

She wore no radiant look when she went home that night. She would go
home alone and unescorted, excepting by her lacqueys, refusing all offers
of companionship when once placed in her equipage. There were, of
course, gentlemen who would not be denied leading her to her coach; John
Oxon was among them, and at the last pressed close, with a manner of
great ceremony, speaking a final word.

"'Tis useless, your ladyship," he murmured, as he made his obeisance
gallantly, and though the words were uttered in his lowest tone and with
great softness, they reached her ear as he intended that they should. "To-
morrow morning I shall wait upon you."

Anne had forborne going to bed, and waited for her return, longing to see
her spirit's face again before she slept; for this poor tender creature,
being denied all woman's loves and joys by Fate, who had made her as she
was, so lived in her sister's beauty and triumphs that 'twas as if in
some far-off way she shared them, and herself experienced through them
the joy of being a woman transcendently beautiful and transcendently
beloved. To-night she had spent her waiting hours in he