heaven which I
survey is above thee also; and this, our common companion, seems in some
measure to unite us. And I have thought over my father's lore, and have
tried to learn it; Day, thou mayest smile, but it is thy absence that
has taught me superstition.

"But tell me, dearest, kindest, tell me when--oh, when wilt then return?
Return only this once--if but for a day, and I will never persecute thee
again. Truant as thou art, thou shalt have full liberty for life. But I
cannot tell thee how sad and heavy I am grown, and every hour knocks
at my heart like a knell! Come back to thy poor Lucilla--if only to
see what joy is! Come--I know thou wilt! But should anything I do
not foresee detain thee, fix at least the day--nay, if possible, the
hour--when we shall meet, and let the letter which conveys such happy
tidings be long, and kind, and full of thee, as thy letters once were.
I know I weary thee, but I cannot help it. I am weak, and dejected, and
cast down, and have only heart enough to pray for thy return."

"You have conquered--you have conquered, Lucilla!" said Godolphin, as he
kissed this wild and reproachful letter, and thrust it into his bosom;
"and I--I will be wretched rather than you shall be so!"

His heart rebuked him even for that last sentence. This pure and devoted
attachment, was it indeed an unhappiness to obtain, and a sacrifice to
return! Stung by his thoughts, and impatient of rest, he hurried into
the air;--he traversed the city; he passed St. Sebastian's Gate, gained
the Appia Via, and saw, lone and sombre, as of old--the house of the
departed Volktman. He had half unconsciously sought that direction, in
order to strengthen his purpose, and sustain his conscience in its right
path. He now hurried onwards, and stopped not till he stood in that
lovely and haunted spot--the valley of Egeria--in which he had met
Lucilla on the day that he first learned her love. There was a gloom
over the scene now, for the day was dark and clouded: the birds were
silent; a heavy oppression seemed to brood upon the air. He entered that
grotto which is the witness of the most beautiful love-story chronicled
even in the soft south. He recalled the passionate and burning emotions
which, the last time he had been within that cell, he had felt for
Lucilla, and had construed erroneously into real love. As he looked
around, how different an aspect the spot wore! Then, those walls, that
spring, even that mutilated statue, ha