she lay between life and death, and, dearly as I
loved her, I often prayed God to end her miserable
days, and take her to himself; but it was
not to be. She recovered her health at last, but
she has always remained of the same ghastly
hue that she was when she gave her dead baby
into Hartmann's arms, and not one gleam, of
reason has ever since come to lighten the darkness
in her soul. She is quite harmless, but it
irritates her if she thinks we watch her; so
when she wishes to walk alone, I pretend that I
want a drive, and follow slowly in the carriage,
so as just to keep her in sight without annoying her;
and if she has a fancy to hear music,
of which she has always been passionately fond,
Elizabeth always takes a place some way off
from her, but where she is able to command a
view of her, and look after her from a distance.
As soon as she was well enough to be moved,
we came to England with William; he has got
a very good situation as organist at the Catholic
chapel close by, and has plenty of lessons besides.
The count provided very amply for poor Wanda
as long as he lived; and since he died, which
is now about four years ago, his heirs have continued
the remittances, so I suppose he remembered
to mention her in his will."

The old woman's dismal narrative was finished,
and she got up to go and see after her daughter.
Edward Saville sat like one petrified; the terrible
history had stunned him. Presently
Madame Hausmann returned, and taking Mr.
Saville by the hand, led him into the next room.
It was her own sleeping apartment, and divided
from another room beyond by a glass door,
which had a curtain over it. She signed to him
to be silent, and bringing him close to it, drew
aside a corner of the curtain. Elizabeth Hausmann
was lying on a sofa at the end of the room,
and not far from her, on a footstool, sat Wanda,
crooning in a low soft voice, and rocking a
cradle in which lay a tiny frock. "Lullaby, my
little baby; lullaby, my little son!" was the
continual burden, repeated over and over again.

"She was much agitated when she saw Elizabeth
carried in this morning," said Madame
Hausmann, wiping her eyes; "but we can always
quiet her by putting the baby's frock into
the cradle, and setting her to rock it."

CHAPTER V.

EDWARD SAVILLE woke from his dream another
man. It was not that he loved Wanda less, he
loved her more; but a strong feeling of humanity,
the most intense compassion, had been
awakened in his heart, and now coloured the
selfishness of his passion; he loved her in
another way, and the manifestations of his love
were consequently quite different to what they
had been before. He sought to win Madame
Hausmann with nearly as much perseverance
as he had before pursued Wanda, and at last
his disinterested zeal disarmed her. In answer
to his anxious inquiries on the subject, she told
him that her eldest son, Francis, had already
had a consultation of eminent physicians upon
Wanda's state in Prague; but that their opinion
was, that the case was a hopeless one. Mr.
Saville found, however, that no advice had yet
been taken for her in England, and he persuaded
Madame Hausmann to allow him to bring the
best men in London to visit her. But to no
purpose; they considered her mental condition
as incurable.

When first he became admitted familiarly into
the house, Wanda used to be afraid of him.
She would not sit down in the room with him,
and never would speak while he was there; she
fluttered about much as a frightened bird does,
and his presence seemed to agitate and make
her restless. Luckily, one day, he remembered
the adventure of the lilies of the valley, and
brought some for her. By degrees, the seeing;
him continually, and always receiving from
him the flowers she was fondest of, tamed her,
and she became accustomed and attached to
his company.

One morning, Edward found Madame Hausmann
busily engaged in reading a letter from.
Germany; it was from Francis Hausmann,
and gave her the account of two wonderful
cures that had lately been effected upon persons,
considered hopelessly insane, by a certain Dr.
Wrangel, whose name had become famous
throughout Germany in consequence. "Dearest
mother," the letter said, "if Wanda could only
see him! But he has had a serious illness, and
has been ordered to the south for change of
climate; he is to pass the winter at Naples,
and will not return to Berlin before next
spring."

"Poor Francis!" said his mother, "he is
never tired of hoping, and in his patient devotion
he forgets that all these useless journeys
and great doctors cost sums of money that we
cannot well afford to waste."

"Why don't you sell Wanda's trinkets,
mother? Her famous diamond comb alone would
pay for all the expenses of the journey," said
Elizabeth; "she, poor thing, neither knows its
value, nor where it comes from; one might put
a common gilt one in its place, and she would
probably like it all the better, for being something
new."

"No, no!" said the old woman; "those
trinkets belonged to her poor mother, and as
long as there is a penny left in the house, they
shan't be touched."

"But, good God!" exclaimed Edward Saville,
"why don't you make use of my wretched
money? Of what earthly good is it lying there
at the banker's? Whom does it profit? And
why wait for Dr. Wrangel's return to Germany?
Whatever is done in cases of this sort, should
be done with as little delay as possible. Why
not go at once and seek the doctor in Naples?"

The women were quite bewildered by this
sudden proposition, and seemed to consider this
long immediate journey to a foreign land as a
project attended by almost insuperable obstacles;
the more so, that it was impossible
for William Hausmann to throw up his situation
and go with them. But when Edward