Again, the objects
that really have an attraction for you--such as Ambition and Power--have
the same fascination for you that high play has for a gambler. You do
not admit nor understand any other; and, last of all,--one is nothing
if not frank in these cases,--you 'd never believe any woman was
lovely enough, clever enough, or graceful enough to be worthy of Norman
Maitland."

"The candor has been perfect. I 'll try and imitate it," said Maitland,
filling his glass slowly, and slightly wetting his lips. "All you
have just said, Carlo, would be unimpeachable if all women were your
countrywomen, and if love were what it is understood to be in an
Italian city; but there are such things in this dreary land of fog and
snow-drift as women who do not believe intrigue to be the chief object
of human existence, who have fully as much self-respect as they have
coquetry, and who would regard no addresses so offensive as those that
would reduce them to the level of a class with which they would not
admit companionship."

"Bastions of virtue that I never ask to lay siege to!" broke out the
other, laughing.

"Don't believe it, Carlo. You'd like the campaign well, if you only
knew how to conduct it. Why, it's not more than a week ago I quitted a
country-house where there were more really pretty women than you could
number in the crowd of one of your ball-rooms on either Arno or Tiber."

"And, in the name of Heaven, why didn't you bring over one of them at
least, to strike us with wonderment and devotion?"

"Because I would not bring envy, malice, and jealousy to all south
of the Alps; because I would not turn all your heads, or torment your
hearts; and lastly, because--she would n't come. No, Carlo, she would
n't come."

"And you really asked her?"

"Yes. At first I made the lamentable blunder of addressing her as I
should one of your own dark-skinned damsels, but the repulse I met
taught me better. I next tried the serious line, but I failed there
also; not hopelessly, however,--at least, not so hopelessly as to deter
me from another attempt. Yes, yes; I understand your smile, and I know
your theory,--there never was a bunch of grapes yet that was worth going
on tiptoe to gather."

"Not that, but there are scores within reach quite as good as one cares
for," said Caffarelli, laughing. "What are you thinking of?" asked he,
after a pause.

"I was thinking what possible hope there was for a nation of twenty
millions of me