clad in careless, loose-fitting garb, which I so well remembered as
myself? Could that brilliant face, with its bands of shining hair, that
smile of easy self-confidence, belong to me? What, had become of the
pale, spiritless girl? My uncle sometimes asked the question, and,
looking at me with a fond, admiring glance, would say,--"You were made
for an empress, Juanita!" I knew then that I was beautiful, and
rejoiced in the knowledge; but no tinge of vanity mingled with the joy.
I cultivated my beauty, as I did my talents, for a purpose of which I
never lost sight.

It was now I learned for the first time that John Haughton loved me.
When it became generally understood that William and I were no longer
engaged, John came forward. I do not know what he, so good, so
high-minded, saw in me; but certainly he loved me with a true
affection. When he avowed it, a strange joy seized me; I felt that now
I held in my hand the key of William's destiny. Now I should not lose
my hold on him; we could not drift apart in the tide of life. As John's
bride, John's wife, there must always be an intimate connection between
us. So I yielded with well-feigned tenderness to my lover's suit,--only
stipulating, that, as some time must elapse before our marriage, no one
should know of our attachment,--not even William, or his mother,--nor,
on my part, any of my uncle's family. He made no objection; I believe
he even took a romantic pleasure in the concealment. He liked to see me
moving about in society, and to feel that there was a tie between us
that none dreamed of but ourselves. Poor John! he deserved better of
Fate than to be the tool of my revenge!

William came home, soon after our engagement, for his annual visit. He
was succeeding rather better than his dismal fancies had once
prognosticated. He was very often at our house,--very much my friend. I