Year: 1873

I need not say.

 One day accompanied Gisela and her parents to the summer residence of a cer. tain Princess M, whose private phy. sician the professors father had been fo, years. It was looked upon as great mark of distinction to be invited, and Gi- sela's toilette had been discussed for days beforehand. When our hostess, a noble looking old lady, met us on the lawn, she kissed the young girls cheek and compli- mented her on her appearance. "An old friend of yours has arrived from Berlin today" said the princess, after the first greetings were over. '1 must introduce him to my little Gisela's betrothed.'

 knew without looking at Gisela's face what had happened. and a great dread took hold of me. The old friend arrived from Berlin was no other than the temp ter of 90 many years; he had stepped in at the eleventh hour, to filch my happi- ness from me. The summer afternoon passed as usual-a little music, little conversation, tea in the garden, and then it was time to go. Without watching the pair, I knew that as yet he had not had the opportunity of saying a single word to her In secret The little party had re- mained together throughout the whole of the entertainment; only when it broke up and was making my adieux to the prin cess and her lady friends, saw her him approach Gisela and whisper a word or two as they shook each other by the hand. We drove home apparently in good spirits: I was set down at the door of my lodging, Gisela having expressed herself too tired to do anything but go to bed, and I tried to occupy myself with my ordinary studies; but I could not read the pages before me. Book after book was taken up and thrown aside; my whole being was possessed of nameless terror. Under her parents roof what harm could happen to her? said reason. In the proximity of that man anything and everything, said fancy; and fancy had her way.

 I lighted my lamp, brought out my books, and prepared for long hours of study. Before the night had fairly set in I sent little bunch of water-lilies to Gi- sela, that she had asked me to procure for her some time before. She had de- sired to paint them, and as desire was rare with her in those days, we always took care to gratify her wishes. Having sent the flowers, I betook myself to my work. It was past midnight when I was aroused by the sound of something fall ing heavily on the threshold of my door. The noise was so sudden and unexpected that for few minutes paused in irres- olute dismay. When at last collected myself and opened the door, I saw Gisela lying at my feet. She had not tainted, nor fallen from weariness, but in her eageness she had missed a step and stumbled. I lifted her from the ground without a word, both of us pale, trem- bling, moved to the inmost depths of our being by untold emotion. As she rose white flowers dropped from her hands: they were the lilies had sent her few hours ego. I placed her in an easy chair, \ wrapped shawls about her, prevailed upon her to drink little wine, and tried to calm her by the tenderest words It was Q long time before the fearful excite ment under which she was laboring pass ed away; the she said in voice feeble, yet at times rising to her old vehemence,-

 Edward, l have come to you to save me. know If stay in this place ean- not continue to resist temptation, and I dare not die with such load upon my conscience. Will you take me away this very night? I have thought of a plan; I have an aunt living at Peth, and the steamer departs at dawn; let us go. You can leave me there and return home to ex- plain all to my parents, who will forgive anything so long as l do not dishonor the1. Ohi Edward, I must hide myself from him, or I am lost, for love him stillr'

 | used every argument could think of to dissuade her from this scheme; I set before her the cowardice such a step would imply, and the discomfort that might hereafter arise. It was quite un- likely that avoidance of this man would always be possible. Wherever we choose to go he might follow, and only a proud, determined spirit on her side could se- cure lasting peace. But she did not seem to take in the meaning of my words. What could do but yield? It was now long past midnight, and within an hour and half of the departure of the steam CT. As calmly as I could, I wrote letter to the professor and his wife. saying that for reasons would explain on my return, Gisela had determined to go to her aunt at Peth. and that I should escort her thither, returning next day. I begged the utmost secrecy as to her movements, and said all that could to comfort them Then hastily made few preparations Tor departure, locked up my room, and holding Gisela by the hand set out for the quay.

 Never shall I forget that walk in the cool. gray, summer dawn, that sad, strange emb&rkAtion, that monotonous, melan- choly journey. Every hour saw myself drifting farther and farther. from the hap pEness had looked upon as assured. In Gssela's aching heart there was surely now no room for me. The sense of her own helplessness weighed her down like m nm hand She was very tender, very psk1ful t0 me. but it was with the tender ne<& of despair.

 AkaSi how sad it makes me to recall the I&<t chapter of her stOryi Gisela remain ea for some months away from her home; szd st the end of that time we were mar EIed Again a gleam of sunshine bright szed our wzy; she returned by little and hEx1e tO her old habits, took an interest n ho1sewifely things, amused me in the evening with music and singing. put on g4y coAOrs to please my eye, showed by SxeEy wUrd, look and deed how entirely SAe trled tO forget the past. For a year or two we thus lived In perfect peace. Bz4 all this time her health was giving way, and just when a vista of happiness see2ed opening before us, she died. The o4oEas where Gisela's story ends, my own confession begins. For years after, led an @lnless. hopeless, useless life, wander Ezg here and there, making no friends, t41ng up no duties, burden to myself. had never loved the profession of medi- ezEe. and the first occupation took re- fuge m was music. I tried to sell my com- positions but at last resigned myself to tAe humber career of an organist. From DOnOtonOus, self-absOrbed existence yOa. dear one, and all-blessed music res- eaed me ere it vas too late found how eaey it was to believe in myself as soon 28 had leaned to believe in another,

 And why did I never once name this pazslonate lOve-story to you? Why did shrink from making you partner of my unforgetable sorrow? Why? Because l eoal6n0t bear to make the inequality still gEeAter between us, I who had so little to oaer, you who everything to give,-sweet- nesss beauty, and q heart unembittered by past tragedy. But on the eve of oul