think you could promise me
these, Mr. Stocmar?"

"I see no reason to despair of either," said he; "for the first I have
pledged myself, and I will certainly do all in my power for the second."

"You must, then, make me another promise: you must come back here for
my wedding."

"Your wedding!"

"Yes. I am going to marry Sir William Heathcote," said she, sighing
heavily. "His debts prevent him ever returning to England, and
consequently I ran the less risk of being inquired after and traced,
than if I were to go back to that dear land of perquisition and
persecution."

"The world is very small nowadays," muttered Stocmar. "People are known
everywhere."

"So they are," said she, quickly. "But on the Continent, or at least in
Italy, the detectives only give you a nod of recognition; they do
not follow you with a warrant, as they do at home. This makes a great
difference, sir."

"And can you really resign yourself, at _your_ age and with _your_
attractions, to retire from the world?" said he, with a deep
earnestness of manner.

"Not without regret, Mr. Stocmar. I will not pretend it But remember,
what would life be if passed upon a tightrope, always poising, always
balancing, never a moment without the dread of a fall, never a second
without the consciousness that the slightest divergence might be death!
Would you counsel me to face an existence like this? Remember, besides,
that in the world we live in, they who wreck character are not the
calumnious, they are simply the idle,--the men and women who, having
nothing to do, do mischief without knowing. One remarks that nobody in
the room knew that woman with the blue wreath in her hair, and at once
she becomes an object of interest. Some of the men have admired her;
the women have discovered innumerable blemishes in her appearance. She
becomes at once a topic and a theme,--where she goes, what she wears,
whom she speaks to, are all reported, till at length the man who can
give the clew to the mystery and 'tell all about her' is a public
benefactor. At what dinner-party is he not the guest?--what opera-box is
denied him?--where is the coterie so select at which his presence is
not welcome so long as the subject is a fresh one? They tell us that
society, like the Church, must have its 'autos da fe,' but one would
rather not be the victim."

Stocmar gave a sigh that seemed to imply assent.

"And so," said she, with a deeper sigh, "I take a husband, as others
take