ur time, happy lovers; life is
short, and nothing good but love.' A feeling of embarrassment unloosed
their hands. The spell was broken, and the Princess, with a sort of
shame, led the way across the tombs, taking the quickest and shortest
line to reach the mausoleum of the Prince.

It stood on the highest ground in 'Division 20,' upon a large level of
lawn and flowers, inclosed by a low rich rail of wrought iron in the
style of the Scaliger tombs at Verona. Its general appearance was
designedly rough, and fairly realised the conception of an antique
tent with its coarse folds, the red of the Dalmatian granite giving the
colour of the bark in which the canvas had been steeped. At the top of
three broad steps of granite was the entrance, flanked with pedestals
and high funereal tripods of bronze blackened with a sort of lacquer.
Above were the Rosen arms upon a large scutcheon, also of bronze, the
shield of the good knight who slept within the tent.

Entering the inclosure, they laid the wreaths here and there, on the
pedestals and on the slanted projections, representing huge tent-pegs,
at the edge of the base. The Princess went to the far end of the
interior, where in the darkness before the altar shone the silver
fringes of two kneeling-desks, and the old gold of a Gothic cross and
massive candlesticks, and there fell upon her knees--a good place to
pray in, among the cool slabs, the panels of black marble glittering
with the name and full titles of the dead, and the inscriptions from
Ecclesiastes or the Song of Songs. But the Princess could find only a
few indistinct words, confused with profane thoughts, which made her
ashamed. She rose and busied herself with the flower-stands, retiring
gradually far enough to judge the effect of the sarcophagus or bed. The
cushion of black bronze, with silver monogram, was already in its place,
and she thought the hard couch with nothing upon it had a fine and
simple effect. But she wanted the opinion of Paul, who could be heard
pacing the gravel as he waited without. Mentally approving his delicacy,
she was on the point of calling him in, when the interior grew dark,
and on the trefoil lights of the lantern was heard the patter of another
shower. Twice she called him, but he did not move from the pedestal,
where he sat exposed to the rain, and without speaking declined her
invitation.

'Come in,' she said, 'come in.'

Still he stayed, saying rapidly and low, 'I do not want to