He again pressed to his lips the tender hand he had retained in his own, and he then seated himself in an arm-chair, whilst, with a slight bow to Herr von Stielow, he cast a look of enquiry at the lady.

She had completely recovered from the disquiet and painful surprise which the count's arrival had caused. Her eyes were bright, her lips smiled, and a faint rosy tinge was seen on her cheeks. In a light graceful way she said:

Herr von

"Ah! gentlemen, you are strangers. Stielow the rest is told by his uniform-a worthy member of our jeunesse dorée, who was just in the act of telling me the latest news of the fashionable world; Count Rivero, a traveller, a man of learning, a diplomat —-according to his whim—he has just come from Rome, and will tell me all about the carnival, or the catacombs, I know not to which scene his heart may have inclined him."

The two gentlemen bowed, Count Rivero coldly, but with the perfect politeness of a man of the world, Herr von Stielow with scarcely concealed dislike.

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My heart," said the count, turning with a smile to the young lady, "has neither the superabundant mirth of the carnival, nor is it yet ripe for the catacombs, but my fair friend loves always to ascribe to me extremes.”. "You have not been in Vienna for some time, count?" asked Herr von Stielow coldly.

"My affairs have kept me in Rome for a year," replied the count," and I thought I should have stayed there still longer, but necessary business has recalled me here. And I am thankful to necessity," he added, glancing at the lady," for leading me back to my friends in beautiful merry Vienna."

She threw a rapid glance at Herr von Stielow who

sat biting his moustache, and her lips trembled slightly. Then she said laughingly :

"And what will you tell me of, count, since neither the carnival nor the catacombs have interested you?"

"Of the beautiful antique statues," he replied, "those pictures in marble a thousand years old, yet offering us the image of living youth."

"In Vienna you will find no taste for the antique," said Herr von Stielow, in a voice which caused the count to look up in surprise, "the world here does not care for the past, but holds only to the present.”

"The world is wrong," said the count coldly, a proud smile playing around his mouth," the past has depth, the present is shallow."

Herr von Stielow frowned. The lady gave him an imploring look but he did not perceive it.

"The past is often tedious," said the officer shortly. The count appeared to find his manner disagreeable, he answered curtly, " And the present often very dull." Herr von Stielow's eyes flashed.

The count rose.

"My beautiful friend," he said, "I am rejoiced to find you so blooming and unchanged. I will see you again soon, and I hope I may find a time when we can talk undisturbed, and I can tell you of Rome and the past without fearing to be tedious."

He kissed her hand, bowed almost imperceptibly to Herr von Stielow, and left the room.

Herr von Stielow sprang up, seized his cap, and prepared to follow him.

The young lady caught his hand and cried:

"Karl, I implore you to hear me !"

He tore his hand away with an impatient movement, and hurried after the count.

She looked after him with staring eyes and outstretched hands.

She seemed to wish to follow him, but she stood still, her hands sank slowly, and her head drooped on her breast. So she remained for some moments, and the only sound was her sobbing breath.

Shall I lose them both ?

"That has occurred which I hoped to avoid," she said to herself in a low voice, "I can do nothing, I cannot interfere, without making the evil worse. They will fight and how will it end? The count is needful-needful for the future of which I dream he loves me not; oh! no-but he requires me for his plans, I feel that, and through him I can reach what I thirst after-power, influence, rule. And this young officer, what can he be to me, what can he offer me? he is rich," she whispered, "but what is that? and yet, and yet," she cried aloud, "would I could tightly grasp him, cling to his beautiful head, and draw him back from danger."

"Antonia, Antonia!" she said, suddenly growing cold and hard as she raised her head, " your heart is not dead, you are about to be a slave !"

She shook her head as if to dispel a dream. A look of defiance came to her lips, she drew up her slender form, and her eyes were widely opened in flaming energy.

"No!" she cried, "no, I will not be a slave, not even to my own heart. I will rule-rule-rule," she repeated, her voice growing lower and lower, but firmer and more determined.

Suddenly the violent constraint gave way, her limbs failed and she sank upon her couch, her lovely hands were crossed upon her breast, her head fell languidly upon the cushion, and whilst her eyes were veiled with tears, she whispered with trembling lips :

"Oh, he was so beautiful!"

And she seemed to sink into dreamy unconsciousness. Herr von Stielow overtook the count as he was going down the steps.

"I did not answer your last remark, count," he said, "because my reply would not have been seemly in a lady's presence. You appear to wish to lecture me, and my name as well as the uniform I wear, ought to tell you, that I will be lectured by no one, at least not by strangers."

The count stood still.

"It seems, sir," he said, "that you wish to quarrel with me."

"And if I do?" cried the young officer boiling over. "You are much mistaken," replied the count.

"I cannot be mistaken in punishing insolence," cried the young officer, who grew more excited from the count's calmness.

"Very well, sir," said the latter, "I believe we had better cease talking, and leave further arrangements to our seconds."

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I like haste and punctuality in these matters," cried Herr von Stielow.

He handed the count a card.

"I shall wait at home for your second."

"I have nothing to prevent my settling the affair at once," said the count.

And bowing coldly they parted.

N hour afterwards the seconds had arranged all that was needful.

The next morning, in the earliest dawn, two carriages were seen driving to a secluded

spot at the farther end of the Prater.

Count Rivero and Herr von Stielow, with the seconds and a surgeon, walked over the dewy ground of a small grassy opening amongst the trees.

The pistols

The preparations were quickly concluded. Two crossed swords marked the barrier. were loaded, and each combatant placed himself ten paces from the barrier. Lieutenant von Stielow was very pale; his face bore traces of a sleepless night, and there were dark circles below his eyes. Yet his expression

was calm, almost joyful.

His second, an officer of his regiment, stepped up to him and handed him the pistols.

"There is yet time," he said, " for a little word of apology, and all mischief will be avoided."

"You know I am always ready to bear the consequences of my words and actions," replied Herr von Stielow; "to draw back now would be unworthy and