thoughtful the maidenly brow. She could not, when he looked upon her so
silently and comparingly, repress her sympathy; she wept, and he too.

"Do I, too, distress you?" said he, in the highest emotion.

"I only weep," she innocently said, "that I am not Liana."

"Noble princess," he replied, "this holy spot takes away all sense of
mutual strangeness. Idoine, I know that you once gave me peace, and here
I thank you."

"I did it," she said, "without knowing you, and therefore could allow
myself the use of a fleeting resemblance."

He looked at her sharply; everything within him loved her, and his whole
heart, opened by wounds, was unfolded to the still soul. But a stern
spirit closed it. "Unhappy one, love no one again; for a dark,
destroying angel goes with poisoned sword behind thy love."

Idoine turned to go. He knelt, pressed her hand to his bosom, and only
said, "Peace, all-gracious one!" Idoine, after a few swift steps, passed
out of his sight.

Albano hastened preparations for his journey; but ere the preparations
were ended, a letter was brought to him that caused him to abandon the
project altogether. It was a letter from the long-dead Princess
Eleonore, wife of the old prince who had died when Albano had first
entered Pestitz. Now, in the fullness of time, was the letter placed
before Albano's eyes and the token of the fullness of time was the
death, without issue, of Prince Luigi, and the seeming inheritance of