hebeen.'

On reaching this, Nina, who seemed to have accepted Donogan's companionship
without further question, directed him to unpack the carriage and take
out her easel and her drawing materials. 'You'll have to carry
these--fortunately not very far, though,' said she, smiling, 'and then
you'll have to come back here and fetch this basket.'

'It is a very proud slavery--command me how you will,' muttered he, not
without emotion.

'That,' continued she, pointing to the basket, 'contains my breakfast, and
luncheon or dinner, and I invite you to be my guest.'

'And I accept with rapture. Oh!' cried he passionately, 'what whispered to
my heart this morning that this would be the happiest day of my life!'

'If so, Fate has scarcely been generous to you.' And her lip curled half
superciliously as she spoke.

'I'd not say that. I have lived amidst great hopes, many of them dashed,
it is true, by disappointment; but who that has been cheered by glorious
daydreams has not tasted moments at least of exquisite bliss?'

'I don't know that I have much sympathy with political ambitions,' said she
pettishly.

'Have you tasted--have you tried them? Do you know what it is to feel the
heart of a nation throb and beat?--to know that all that love can do to
purify and elevate, can be exercised for the countless thousands of one's
own race and lineage, and to think that long after men have forgotten your
name, some heritage of freedom will survive to say that there once lived
one who loved his country.'

'This is very pretty enthusiasm.'

'Oh, how is it that you, who can stimulate one's heart to such confessions,
know nothing of the sentiment?'

'I have my ambitions,' said she coldly, almost sternly.

'Let me hear some of them.'

'They are not like yours, though they are perhaps just as impossible.' She
spoke in a broken, unconnected manner, like one who was talking aloud the
thoughts that came laggingly; then with a sudden earnestness she said,
'I'll tell you one of them. It's to catch the broad bold light that has
just beat on the old castle there, and brought out all its rich tints of
greys and yellows in such a glorious wealth of colour. Place my easel here,
under the trees; spread that rug for yourself to lie on. No--you won't have
it? Well, fold it neatly, and place it there for my feet: very nicely
done. And now, Signer Ribello, you may unpack that basket, and arrange our
breakfast, and when you have done all these,