sk, and of a tie to Florence;
and she was determined never to submit her mind to his judgment on this
question of duty to her father; she was inwardly prepared to encounter
any sort of pain in resistance. But the determination was kept latent
in these first moments by the heart-crushing sense that now at last she
and Tito must be confessedly divided in their wishes. He was glad of
her silence; for, much as he had feared the strength of her feeling, it
was impossible for him, shut up in the narrowness that hedges in all
merely clever, unimpassioned men, not to over-estimate the
persuasiveness of his own arguments. His conduct did not look ugly to
himself, and his imagination did not suffice to show him exactly how it
would look to Romola. He went on in the same gentle, remonstrating
tone.

"You know, dearest--your own clear judgment always showed you--that the
notion of isolating a collection of books and antiquities, and attaching
a single name to them for ever, was one that had no valid, substantial
good for its object: and yet more, one that was liable to be defeated in
a thousand ways. See what has become of the Medici collections! And,
for my part, I consider it even blameworthy to entertain those petty
views of appropriation: why should any one be reasonably glad that
Florence should possess the benefits of learned research and taste more
than any other city? I understand your feeling about the wishes of the
dead; but wisdom puts a limit to these sentiments, else lives might be
continually wasted in that sort of futile devotion--like praising deaf
gods for ever. You gave your life to your father while he lived; why
should you demand more of yourself?"

"Because it was a trust," said Romola, in a low but distinct voice. "He
trusted me, he trusted you, Tito. I did not expect you to feel anything
else about it--to feel as I do--but I did expect you to feel that."

"Yes, dearest, of course I should feel it on a point where your father's
real welfare or happiness was concerned; but there is no question of
that now. If we believed in purgatory, I should be as anxious as you to
have masses said; and if I believed it could now pain your father to see
his library preserved and used in a rather different way from what he
had set his mind on, I should share the strictness of your views. But a
little philosophy should teach us to rid ourselves of those air-woven
fetters that mortals hang round themselves, spendin