meet her.

"You have been a long time away," was his observation, as he looked
into her eyes, where the trace of tears might easily be detected. "I
found our guest alone."

"M. de Wensleben was good enough to excuse me," she replied; "and then
I thought you would be back immediately."

They sat down to the table; coffee was brought, and the past appeared
to be forgotten.

The conversation at first was broken by constant pauses. Edward saw
that Emily did all she could to play the hostess agreeably, and to
pacify her husband's ill-humor.

In this attempt the young man assisted her, and at last they were
successful. D'Effernay became more cheerful; the conversation more
animated; and Edward found that his host could be a very agreeable
member of society when he pleased, combining a good deal of
information with great natural powers. The evening passed away more
pleasantly than it promised at one time; and after an excellent and
well-served supper, the young officer was shown into a comfortable
room, fitted up with every modern luxury; and weary in mind and body,
he soon fell asleep. He dreamed of all that had occupied his waking
thoughts-of his friend, and his friend's history.

But in that species of confusion which often characterizes dreams,
he fancied that he was Ferdinand, or at least, his own individuality
seemed mixed up with that of Hallberg. He felt that he was ill. He lay