Parma, had been attached. The Empress, when she broke from her daughter with eo much indignation, had entangled herself in the chain gud broken it, The Duchoss leaned against the balcony, diswolved in tears.
It is a erushing pain to the souls of the young, when they discover that their deepest fecliugs have been awa- kened, ouly to plunge them into misery, But sorrow and amazement now vanished from the strong, presen- timent of @ near, threatening, and tertible peril, which overpowered all other emotions. ‘The shadows of night hegan to extend themselves. Jorephine had looked on the pale and engry countenance of the Empress by the doubtful twilight; the power of her imagination still Presented to her its threatening aspret. ‘The lonelinces around her becume insupportable, She called her ladica around her, Yet, neither sheit laughing feces, the cound of their voices, the brightness of the lights, nor the songs of her beloved sister Panline, had power to cheer the soul of the Princess. She walked up and down the apartinent with unsteady step, when a knock was heard at the door, and she was awakened from her reverie by terror,
It was Martini, the confessor of the Empress. The features of this priest were modelled tike those of an ancient statue. His lofiy brow gave his face at once a stern and penetrating expression. Hie demeanor was humble and benevolent, his voice slow and gentle; yet it was impomible to avoid a sensation of fear at his presence. No one over looked on that cold, unpitying eye, without saying to himself—“This ie a man who delights in human tnisery.” *
He approached the Duchess, looked at her dress, for in changing her robe after the ecremony, she had put on black, her usual color, and said, “I see with pleasure, my daughter, that you did not await my coming to pre« pare for fulfilling the duties of to-night.”
“What do you mean?” asked the Princess. “I consulted nothing but my own convenience in changing my dress.”
“Lbelievel it to he done from humility. Thy wed- ding clothes and worldly decoration, would he unsuitable accompaniments for prayers in the presence of the dead.”
“TI beseech you, explain yourself,” cried Josephine, trembling in every limb.
“ Your Imperial Highness very well knows, that it is your turn, to watch and pray to-night at the grave of the ‘Archduchess.” :
Josephine fell with her forehead ngninst the wall. Pauline interposed with these words:
“Tho Emprces will never permit it, Every ono Knows, that the Archduchess died with the small pox, ‘on which aecount no one lis since entered the chapel.”
“Un the contrary, lier Imperial Majesty expressly Yemands, that this pious duty shall by no means be neglected. ‘She herself sont me hither, to led the
Duchess of Parma immediately to the coffin of her sister,”
Appeal to the Emperor,’ whispered Pauline; “but what ean be expected from his will? No—there is no hope there. But throw yourself at the feet of your mother, I conjure you.”
“] bave just now scen her,” answered the Duchess, with an expression of the deepest distress, Pauline hid her face with both hands.
«] wait,” said the priest, “the pleasure of your Im- perial Highness, to follow me to the chapel.”
Josephine rose to obey.
“1 will accompany you,” ssid Pauline, “something inight happen to you in the night—”
“Your Imperial Highness must watch alone,” ane swered the confessor decidedly. “ Bevides, such is the custom.”
‘Martini was stil speaking, when a child rushed into the apartment of the Archduchess, and hastened up to embrace ber.
«Dear sister, thou wilt leave us perhaps for ever. You must give me twice as many kisses as you usually do.”
«Good Maria, thou hast no sorrows; thou wilt sleep quietly to-night.” :
“Thou wilt perhaps not sleep so quietly, but wilt he happy. To-morrow, and I shall never ree thee again.”
“To-morrow, © God !—” At thexe words a torrent of tears rolled down the cheeks of the Archduchess.
“What is the matter with you?” asked the child. “Why dost thou weep? They told me that thou wast going to reign.”
Good child, may Heaven spare thee auch nuptials.”
The litte girl mingled her teara with those of her sister.
Tho Duchess zepaired to the vault. Her Indies fol- Towed her to the door. When it was opened, they per- ceived that its damp darknese, was changed into a faint twilight by the light of a single toper. Josephine tuned around, pressed the weeping Pauline in her arms, and entered the chapel Her ladies saw her knecling at the foot of the alter, when the door was slowly closed and locked.
Pauline was obliged to wait until the sitting of the Council Chamber had ended, to inform the Emperor that his favorite daughter was passing tho night in an oflensive vault, by the corpse of a sister, who had died with an infectious disease. More than half of the night was already gone—
‘The Emperor hastened himself to the chapel. He found the Archduchess, just in the very spot in which they had left her kneeling before the altar, and her head bowed as if in proyer; hee body seemed shrunk, and her arms rested on the marble slab. Her father spoke to her. No answer. Me raised her———She was dead!
�
