The festive scene lasted some time longer, nor did it conclude with
the departure of the King and Queen: many still lingered, wandering at
their own will about the rooms and gardens, and dispersing gradually,
as was then the custom, without any set farewell.
Her attendance no longer required by the Queen, and aware that her
presence was not needed by her guests, Marie sought the gardens; her
fevered spirit and aching head yearning to exchange the dazzling
lights and close rooms for the darkness and refreshing breeze of
night. Almost unconsciously she had reached some distance from the
house, and now stood beside a beautiful statue of a-water-nymph,
overlooking a deep still pool, so clear and limpid, that when the moon
cast her light upon it, it shone like a sheet of silver, reflecting
every surrounding object. There were many paths that led to it,
concealed one from the other by gigantic trees and overhanging shrubs.
It was a favorite spot with. Marie, and she now stood leaning against
the statue, quite unconscious that tears were falling faster and
faster from her eyes, and mingling with the waters at her feet.
"Marie!" exclaimed the voice of Stanley at that moment: "Canst thou be
Marie? so false, so--" but his words were checked, for the terror, the
tumult of feeling, while it impelled her to start from him, deprived
her of all power; and a rapid movement on his part alone prevented her
from falling in the deep pool beneath their feet.
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