In a large but somewhat scantily furnished apartment sat two young girls, in such earnest and apparently serious conversation that, but for their youthful and blooming countenances, one might have fancied them bending beneath the cares and sorrows of age. On the dark old table between them rested a magnificent work-box, whose rich implements they had been busily and skillfully using; but now the scissors and thread lay at their feet, their needles were dropped, and the younger of the two sat with clasped hands, while her companion's low tones appeared to awaken every emotion of her heart.
On the old-fashioned French bedstead were thrown dresses of various hues and expensive stuffs, while one only, a robe of the most delicate material, its graceful folds looped with orange flowers, seemed to attract the attention of the fair, fragile being, whose attitude was one of intense suffering. Her bright hopes had faded at sight of that colorless garb, and the bridal wreath was to wither on her brow! What to her sad soul were the costly things before her? The jewels that sparkled on their snow-white satin case, the long fairy veil of beautiful lace that lay side by side with the bridal dress?
Her companion continued speaking, and she bowed her face upon those clasped hands, while her slight frame shook with its contending emotions. A few moments more and she raised her head. She was pale, and her large, dark eyes dilated into fearful size. At length the big drops came slowly down her cheek, and she was able to speak.
"No more, Angela, no more! You love me, I know; but what you have done to day was no act of friendship. You have troubled the dark waters of my soul until they have become a torrent over which I have no control."
"And it is because I love you, Pauline, that I have made your future life manifest to you. Do not seek to make a merit of obedience to your proud mother's will. It is because you have been taught to fear her, that you have consented to perjure yourself, and marry a man you cannot love."
"For the love of heaven, spare me!" cried the girl, shrinking from her friend's words, "Is it to triumph over me that you thus seek to move me?"
Her friend gazed mournfully upon her, and rising from her seat, gently put her arm around her.