Loud and long was the laugh, and merry the jest that echoed round; and the laugh and the jest of the lord of Adenheim were louder and merrier than all.

And by his right side sat a beautiful lady; and ever and anon he turned from others to whisper soft vows in her ear.
"And oh," said the bright dame of Falkenberg, "thy words what ladye can believe?
Didst thou not utter the same oaths, and promise the same love, to Ida, the fair daughter of Loden, and now but three little months have closed upon her grave ?" "By my halidom," quoth the young lord of Adenheim, "thou dost thy beauty marvellous injustice.

Ida! Nay, thou mockest me; _I_ love the daughter of Loden! Why, how then should I be worthy thee?
A few gay words, a few passing smiles,--behold all the love Adenheim ever bore to Ida.

Was it my fault if the poor fool misconstrued such common courtesy?
Nay, dearest lady, this heart is virgin to thee." "And what!" said the lady of Falkenberg, as she suffered the arm of Adenheim to encircle her slender waist, "didst thou not grieve for her loss ?" "Why, verily, yes, for the first week; but in thy bright eyes I found ready consolation." At this moment, the lord of Adenheim thought he heard a deep sigh behind him; he turned, but saw nothing, save a slight mist that gradually faded away, and vanished in the distance.

Where was the necessity for Ida to reveal herself?
.......
"And thou didst not, then, do thine errand to thy lover ?" said Seralim, as the spirit of the wronged Ida returned to Purgatory.
"Bid the demons recommence their torture," was poor Ida's answer.
"And was it for this that thou added a thousand years to thy doom ?" "Alas!" answered Ida, "after the single hour I have endured on Earth, there seems to be but little terrible in a thousand fresh years of Purgatory!"* * This story is principally borrowed from a foreign soil.