--then,
Constance, pause; it is not too late."

"Do I deserve this, Percy?"

"You drop words sometimes," answered Godolphin, "that seem to indicate
that you think the world may cavil at your choice, and that some
exertion on my part is necessary to maintain your dignity. Constance,
need I say, again and again, that I adore the very dust you tread on?
But I have a pride, a self-respect, beneath which I cannot stoop; if
you really think or feel this, I will not condescend to receive even
happiness from you: let us part."

Constance saw his lips white and quivering as he spoke; her heart smote
her, her pride vanished: she sank on his shoulder, and forgot even
ambition; nay, while she inly murmured at his sentiment, she felt it
breathed a sort of nobility that she could not but esteem. She strove
then to lull to rest all her more worldly anxieties for the future; to
hope that, cast on the exciting stage of English ambition, Godolphin
must necessarily be stirred despite his creed; and if she sometimes
doubted, sometimes despaired of this, she felt at least that his
presence had become dearer to her than all things. Nay, she checked her
own enthusiasm, her own worship of fame, since they clashed with his
opinions; so marvellously and insensibly bad Love bowed down the proud
energies and the lofty soul of the daughter of John Vernon.

CHAPTER XLVI.

THE BRIDALS.--THE ACCIDENT.--THE FIRST LAWFUL POSSESSION OF LOVE.

It was the morning on which Constance and Godolphin were to be married;
it had been settled that they were to proceed the same day towards
Florence; and Constance was at her toilette when her woman laid beside
her a large bouquet of flowers.

"From Percy--from Mr. Godolphin, I mean?" she asked, taking them up.

"No, my lady; a young woman outside the palace gave them me, and bade me
in such pretty English be sure to give them to your ladyship; and when I
offered her money, she would not take anything, my lady."

"The Italians are a courteous people," replied Constance; and she placed
the flowers in her bosom.

As, after the ceremony, Godolphin assisted his bride into the carriage,
a girl, wrapped in a large cloak, pressed forward for a moment.
Godolphin had in that moment turned his head to give some order to his
servant, and with the next the girl had sunk back into the throng that
was drawn around the carriage--yet not before Constance had heard
her murmur in deep, admiring, yet sorrowful tone: "