He subdued the expression of wonder just rising on his lip, watching the issue with increased interest.

Kate covered her face.  She had just glanced at the picture, and her proud bosom heaved almost to bursting.

“Look, disdainful woman! and though thy bosom be formed for love, yet wouldest thou spurn it from thee.  I know thou lovest him.  Nay, chide not; thy brow cannot blast me with its thunders.  Go to.  I could, by mine art, so humble thee, set thy love so exquisitely on its desire, that thou shouldest lay thy proud womanhood aside—­sue and crouch, even if ’twere for blows, like a tame spaniel!  I have thee in my power, and were not the natural bent of thy dispositions kind and noblehearted, yet sore beset, and, as it were, overwhelmed by thy curst humours, I had now cast my spells about thee—­ay, stricken thee to the dust!  Shake off these bonds that enthral thy better spirit, and let not that beautiful fabric play the hypocrite any longer.  Why should so fair a temple be the dwelling of a demon?”

A deep sob here told that kindlier feelings were at work; that nature was beginning to assert her prerogative, and that the common sympathies, the tender attributes, of woman were not extinguished.

The struggle was short, but severe.  With difficulty she repressed the outburst of her grief as she spoke.

“A woman still!  ’Tis the garb nature put on.  I have wrapped a sterner garment about me.”  A long and bitter sob here betrayed the violent warfare within.  It was but for a moment.  Affecting contempt for her own weakness, she exclaimed—­

“Throw it off?  Expose me defenceless to his proud contumely?  Even now the cold glance of indifference hath pierced it through!”

Here she arose proudly.

“And what thinkest thou, if I were to stand unarmed, uncovered, before his unfeeling gaze?”

“He loves thee,” hastily rejoined the seer.

“Me!—­as soon that bauble learn to love as”——­

“Say but one word, and I will bow him at thy feet.”

“’Tis well thou mockest me thus.  To worm out my secret, perchance.—­For this didst thou crave my presence?  Let me be gone!”

“Thou shalt say ‘Yes,’ Kate, ere thou depart!”

The curtain which divided the apartment suddenly flew aside.  The astonished lover beheld his mistress:—­not the unreal phantom he had imagined, but a being substantial in quality, and of a nature like his own, though gentler than his fondest anticipations.

The seer departed:  but in the end the lovers were not displeased at being betrayed into a mutual expression of their regard.

The operation of the heavenly influences was, in these days, a doctrine that obtained almost universal credit; and it would have been looked upon as a daring piece of presumption to baffle the prophetic signification of the stars.

On that same night, being the eve of St Bartholomew, they were married:—­thus adding one more to the numerous instances on record, where a belief in the prediction has been the means of its accomplishment.