e loved unhappily,
herself; and if so, will pity me. In any case, a frank avowal on my part
will show that I knew nothing of his heart, and but little of my own,
till 'too late.' We are never to meet again," and so-and-so; in fact,
with many a casuistry, she satisfied herself that mere memory could
never be a sin,--that there could be nothing very wrong in looking back
as often as the future seemed lowering and gloomy. It is hard to say if
there might not have been some leaven of "pique" in these reasonings.
The Prince, according to Lady Hester, if he had not entirely forgotten,
was already indifferent about her. Some uncertainty of ceremonial
prevented his writing or hearing from her; and at this very moment he
was following out the ordinary life of dissipation which he led before.
Why care for him,----why even endeavor to nourish an affection that
must be blighted in the end? Besides, her marriage was never one of
inclination; Lady Hester had been most frank in explaining the Prince's
appreciation of it As to her own reasons for the step, she knew them too
well.

All that Kate had seen of life in her Florence experiences told her
that such cases were the ordinary events of the world. Few were happily
married,--disparity of age, inequality of condition, incompatible
tempers, and a hundred other causes were ever at work. Lady Hester used
to tell her that nobody was ever satisfied with their "married lot:
the good and right-minded only pined under it; the less scrupulous
proclaimed their dissatisfaction to the world, and asked for sympathy."
These were the two categories that comprehended all her theory. Now Kate
was quite resolved to be one of the former class; but she saw no reason
why she ought not to have one "confidante" of her cares.

With all the force of these persuasions she could not get over the
awkwardness of the confession, and would have given worlds that Nina
herself would take the first step. That simple-minded creature, however,
appeared dead to every hint or suggestion,--she could never see the
drift of any remark, save in its most obvious sense, and actually pushed
Kate's temper to the last entrenchment of patience by pure stupidity.
"Is it possible--can it be that I am deceived--that she has not
recognized the miniature?" thought Kate. "Is my secret still in my own
keeping?"

As this thought struck her, everything appeared to confirm it,--the
girl's manner, devoid of every trait of imperiousness, a