ease as its own deficiency. Constantia was a reasoning
being, and she appeared ever placid in situations where her fine mind
was overwhelmed by a painful train of circumstances over which she had
no control: the sins for which she suffered were not of her own
committing.

She had often gloried in days past at the prospect of fame--the honest,
upright fame which appeared the guiding principle that influenced her
father's actions, when the seeking after glory seemed to her as a
ferment thrown into his blood to work it up to action; and though she
sometimes apprehended that he used his will with his right hand and his
reason with his left, she never imagined the possibility that his pomp
was furnished by injustice and his wealth dyed in blood. It was, in
truth, a fearful knowledge she had acquired--a knowledge she could not
communicate, and upon which she could never take advice. Her misery was
to be endured not only with patience, but in secret and without
complaint. That destiny was indeed severe which compelled her to
anticipate a meeting with Walter as the greatest evil which could befall
her; yet ardently did her soul yearn to know his fate. She sat by her
father on the first night of his affliction, and on the long, long day
that followed, guarding him through his dreadful malady with the
watchfulness of a most devoted child, and the skilfulnes of a most wise
physician. Almost every word he uttered was as a dagger to her heart;
yet she saw and knew the necessity that must soon exist for others to
hear him speak, and shuddered at the thought.

"God! God! have mercy on me!" she murmured, clasping her hands, as she
looked upon his features, which, when it was nearly morning, had been
tranquillised into forgetfulness--"God have mercy upon me--and upon him,
poor sleeper!"

"Who sleeps?" he exclaimed, starting from his couch--"_He_ will not let
me sleep!--There! Constance, Constance, the ship is under weigh--she
spreads her white sails to the breeze, the ocean breeze--the breeze that
will not cool my brow!--And there--they drag him from the hold!--Look
how he struggles on the vessel's deck!--Spare him!--But no, do not spare
him: if he returns, where am I? Hush! did you hear that?--Hush! hush!
hush!" He stretched his hand, and bent his head in an attitude of deep
attention; then seizing her arm, repeated "hush!" until at last she
again inquired what disturbed him. "'Tis your mother, child; heard you
not that she said I m