ive one man who can hear a woman, young and beautiful,
confess attachment to him, and not catch the contagion? Affected,
flattered, and almost melted into love himself, Godolphin felt all the
danger of the moment but this young, inexperienced girl--the daughter of
his friend--no! her he could not--loving, willing as she was, betray.

Yet it was some moments before he could command himself sufficiently to
answer her:--"Listen to me calmly," at length he said; "we are at least
to each other dear friends nay, listen, I beseech you. I, Lucilla, am a
man whose heart is forestalled--exhausted before its time; I have loved,
deeply, and passionately: that love is over, but it has unfitted me for
any species of love resembling itself--any which I could offer to you.
Dearest Lucilla, I will not disguise the truth from you. Were I to love
you, it would be--not in the eyes of _your_ countrymen (with whom such
connexions are common), but in the eyes of mine--it would be dishonour.
Shall I confer even this partial dishonour on you? No! Lucilla, this
feeling of yours towards me is (pardon me) but a young and childish
phantasy: you will smile at it some years hence. I am not worthy of so
pure and fresh a heart: but at least" (here he spoke in a lower voice,
and as to himself)--"at least I am not so unworthy as to wrong it."

"Go!" said Lucilla; "go, I implore you." She spoke, and stood hueless
and motionless, as if the life (life's life was indeed gone!) had
departed from her. Her features were set and rigid; the tears that stole
in large drops down her cheeks were unfelt; a slight quivering of her
lips only bespoke what passed within her.

"Ah!" cried Godolphin, stung from his usual calm--stung from the quiet
kindness he had sought, from principle, to assume--"can I withstand this
trial?--I, whose dream of life has been the love that I might now find!
I, who have never before known an obstacle to a wish which I have not
contended against, if not conquered: and, weakened as I am with the
habitual indulgence to temptation, which has never been so strong as
now;--but no! I will--I will deserve this attachment by self-restraint,
self-sacrifice."

He moved away; and then returning, dropped on his knee before Lucilla.

"Spare me!" said he in an agitated voice, which brought back all the
blood to that young and transparent cheek, which was now half averted
from him--"spare me--spare yourself! Look around, when I am gone, for
some one to