AT THE MASKED BALL.


The feast had commenced. As Louise von Kleist, the beautiful
odalisque, entered the dancing-saloon, she was almost blinded by the
gay and sparkling assembly. The fairy-like and fantastic robes
sparkled with gold and jewels. The sea of light thrown from the
crystal chandelier upon the mirrors and ornaments of the brilliant
saloon dazzled the eye. The entertainments of the Prince of Prussia
were renowned for their taste and splendor.

Unrecognized, the beautiful Louise slipped through the gay assembly
of masks, and, when detecting some friends under the muffled forms
of their disguise, she murmured their names, and some mischievous
and witty remark; then springing gayly on to shoot again her arrow,
and excite astonishment and surprise.

"Oh, that life were a masked ball!" she murmured softly to herself,
"mysterious and sweet! where you find more than you seek, and guess
more than is known. No one recognizes me here. The brave and
handsome Count Troussel, who is leaning against that pillar, and
casting such melancholy glances through the crowd, hunting for the
one his heart adores, never dreams that she is standing opposite
him, and is laughing at his perplexity. No, he does not recognize
me, and no one knows my costume but the prince and Pollnitz, and as
they have not yet found me, I conclude they have not arrived. I will
therefore amuse myself during their absence."

She was just approaching the sentimental cavalier, when she suddenly