ch; they smile upon our agony; they bid the seasons roll on,
unmoved and unsympathising, above our broken hearts. And what has been
my course since your last kiss on these dying lips? Godolphin,"--and
here Lucilla drew herself apart from him, and writhed, as with some
bitter memory,--"these lips have felt other kisses, and these ears have
drunk unhallowed sounds, and wild revelry and wilder passion have made
me laugh over the sepulchre of my soul. But I am a poor creature; pour,
poor--mad, Percy--mad--they tell me so!" Then, in the sudden changes
incident to her disease, Lucilla continued--"I saw your bride, Percy,
when your bore her from Rome, and the wheels of your bridal carriage
swept over me, for I flung myself in their way; but they scratched me
not; the bright demons above ordained otherwise, and I wandered over the
world; but you shall know not," added Lucilla, with a laugh of dreadful
levity, "whither or with whom, for we must have concealments, my love,
as you will confess; and I strove to forget you, and my brain sank in
the effort. I felt my frame withering, and they told me my doom was
fixed, and I resolved to come to England, and look on my first love once
more; so I came, and I saw you, Godolphin; and I knew, by the wrinkles
in your brow, and the musing thought in your eye, that your proud lot
had not brought you content. And then there came to me a stately shape,
and I knew it for her for whom you had deserted me: she told me, as you
tell me, to live, to forget the past. Mockery, mockery! But my heart
is proud as hers, Percy, and I would not stoop to the kindness of a
triumphant rival; and I fled, what matters it whither? But listen,
Percy, listen; my woes have made me wise in that science which is not
of heart, and I knew that you and I must meet once more, and that that
meeting would be in this hour; and I counted, minute by minute, with a
savage gladness, the days that were to bring on this interview and my
death!" Then raising her voice into a wild shriek--"Beware,
beware, Percy!-the rush of waters is on my ear-the splash, the
gurgle!--Beware!--your last hour, also; is at hand!"

From the moment in which she uttered these words, Lucilla relapsed into
her former frantic paroxysms. Shriek followed shriek; she appeared to
know none around her, not even Godolphin. With throes and agony the soul
seemed to wrench itself from the frame. The hours swept on--midnight
came--clear and distinct the voice of the c