232 THE PROUD " LADYE." 



many apartments. But the guests thought not yet of retiring, 

 when suddenly it was whispered that the " ladye of the festival" 

 had vanished. She had been seen an hour before, as she 

 glided through the wide hall, and a servant declared that her 

 face was ghastly pale as she flitted past him on the broad stair- 

 case. The door of her apartment was locked, and no answer 

 was made to the repeated calls of the now alarmed friends. 

 At length the door was forced, and then was discovered the 

 proud and heart-broken Isabel, lying prostrate upon her couch. 



They lifted her face from the pillow, but she was dead and cold. 

 The roses were yet unfaded on her bosom, the plumes still 

 waved as if in mockery over her rigid brow, and the sheen of 

 her diamonds glittered fearfully upon her stony arms as the 

 light of many torches flashed upon the ghastliness of death. 

 Pride had done its work — it had crushed her heart within its iron 

 grasp, and long ere the rumor of her lover's untimely fate 

 reached the ears of those who watched for his return, the 

 beautiful but mistaken girl had been consigned to darkness and 

 the worm.' 



