the sombre--that dull glow of a
fire that you leave burning in the grate late on winter nights. Was that
natural? It struck me that her dramatic instinct was as much alive as her
passion."

"Had she been clumsy, would you not have been less suspicious of her? And
if she had only shown the accustomed northern retenue, and merely looked
all that she had to say 'preserved her dignity'--our womanly critic would
have been completely satisfied."

"But, Merthyr, to parade her feelings, and then to go on appealing!"

"On the principle that she ought to be ashamed of them, she was wrong."

"If you had heard her utter abandonment!"

"I can believe that she did not blush."

"It seems to me to belong to those excesses that prompt--that are in
themselves a species of suicide."

"Love is said to be the death of self."

"No; but I must use cant words, Merthyr; I do wish to see modesty. Yes, I
know I must be right."

"There is very little of it to be had in a tropical storm."

"You admit, then, that this sort of love is a storm that passes?"

"It passes, I hope."

"But where is your defence of her now?"

"Have I defended her? I need not try. A man has deceived her, and she
doesn't think it possible; and has said so, I presume. When she sees it,
she will be quieter than most. She will not reproach him subsequently.
Here is the hotel, and that must be Charlotte's room, if I may judge by
the lights. What pranks will she always be playing! We seem to have
brought new elements into the little town. Do you remember Bergamo the
rainy night the Austrian trooped out of Milan?--one light that was a
thousand in the twinkling of an eye!"

Having arrived, he ran hastily up to the room, expecting to find the
three; but Lady Charlotte was alone, sitting in her chair with knotted
arms. "Ah, Merthyr!" she said, "I'm sorry you should have been disturbed.
I perceive what Georgey's leaving the room meant. I suppose the hotel
people are used to yachting-parties." And then, not seeing any friendly
demonstration on his part, she folded her arms in another knot. Georgiana
asked where Emilia was. Lady Charlotte replied that Emilia had gone, and
then Wilfrid had followed her, one minute later, to get her into shelter
somewhere. Or put penknives out of her way. "I am rather fatigued with a
scene, Merthyr. I never had an idea before of what your Southern women
were. One plays decidedly second to them while the fit lasts. Of course,
you have a no