s weakness in one so proud
and brilliant, to look no loftier than a private and not very wealthy
gentleman; handsome, indeed, and reputed clever; but one who had never
distinguished himself in anything--who never would!

Constance was alarmed and stung, not at the vulgar accusation, the
paltry sneer, but at the prophecy relating to Godolphin: "he had never
distinguished himself in anything--he never would." Rank, wealth, power,
Constance felt these she wanted not, these she could command of herself;
but she felt also that a nobler vanity of her nature required that the
man of her mature and second choice should not be one, in repute, of
that mere herd, above whom, in reality, his genius so eminently exalted
him. She deemed it essential to her future happiness that Godolphin's
ambition should be aroused, that he should share her ardour for those
great objects that she felt would for ever be dear to her.

"I love Rome!" said she, passionately, one day, as accompanied by
Godolphin, she left the Vatican; "I feel my soul grow larger amidst its
ruins. Elsewhere, through Italy, we live in the present, but here in the
past."

"Say not that that is the better life, dear Constance; the present--can
we surpass it?"

Constance blushed, and thanked her lover with a look that told him he
was understood.

"Yet," said she, returning to the subject, "who can breathe the air that
is rife with glory, and not be intoxicated with emulation? Ah, Percy!"

"Ah, Constance! and what wouldst thou have of me? Is it not glory enough
to be thy lover?"

"Let the world be as proud of my choice as I am." Godolphin frowned; he
penetrated in those words to Constance's secret meaning. Accustomed to
be an idol from his boyhood, he resented the notion that he had need of
exertion to render him worthy even of Constance; and sensible that it
might be thought he made an alliance beyond his just pretensions, he
was doubly tenacious as to his own claims. Godolphin frowned, then, and
turned away in silence. Constance sighed; she felt that she might not
renew the subject. But, after a pause, Godolphin himself continued it.

"Constance," said he, in a low firm voice, "let us understand each
other. You are all to me in the world; fame, and honor, and station and
happiness. Am I, also, that all to you? If there be any thought at your
heart which whispers you, 'You might have served your ambition
better; you have done wrong in yielding to love and love only,'