when first it came, now looked upon it with painful surprise, and
unhesitatingly said, "Your pretty-faced girl over the mantel yonder
is undoubtedly going to say, No."

Into the soft, dark eye there seemed to have crept a glitter, cold and
almost unfeeling. The fatal Shadow had hardened, but not altogether
stolen away the beauty of that sweet mouth. Even the loose-flowing gown
seemed to have lost its easy grace, and stiffened into splendid and
haughty folds, fit only for the form of some grand old Dame proud of her
beauty and proud of her ancient coronet. The very lace about her slender
throat--but a misty web of dainty and intricate work--seemed to have
crystallized and whitened, as if done with a sharp and skillful chisel.
The pale, pinky tinge about the perfect little ear had deepened into
a more rosy hue, which had overspread the face--barely more than
pale--with a deep color and a glow of emotion only half concealed.
Ah, was it a look of triumph? was it the consciousness of power?

The left hand, holding her Lover's letter, had lost its somewhat
tremulous look. The fingers of the other hand had tightened about the
pen, hovering over that unwritten page. And, in short, she seemed ready
to write the answer--what will it be? The heart of the Youth was full of
Trouble. Hope flickered up into an uncertain existence. Now the Picture
had grown hateful to his sight; so a silken curtain, in crimson folds,
clung against and hid away the face of this Changeful Lady.

But no sooner was the curtain drawn, hiding from sight the lovely and
beloved face, but an all-powerful desire brought him back again, and lo!
the curtain was rudely thrust aside; but alas! there was no change.

When away from his room and the siren-like face behind its silken folds