egun?' said she half-scornfully. 'Can the great poet pour into your
heart out of the fulness of his own, and make you as he is? Or are you
suddenly become rich and great, like _him_?'
The youth started, and an angry flush covered his face, and even his
forehead, as he arose and walked the room.
'I see well what is working within you,' said the girl. 'The contrast
from that splendour to this misery--these poor bleak walls, where no
pictures are hanging, no gilding glitters--is too great for you. It is
the same shock to your nature as from the beautiful princess in whose
presence you stood to that humble bench beside _me_.'
'No, by Heaven! Marietta,' cried he passionately, 'I have not an
ambition in my heart wherein your share is not allotted. It is that you
may walk with me to the goal----'
A scornful gesture of disbelief, one of those movements which, with
Italians, have a significance no words ever convey, interrupted his
protestation.
'This is too bad!' he cried; 'nor had you ever conceived such distrust
of me if your own heart did not give the prompting. There, there,' cried
he, as he pointed his finger at her, while her eyes flashed and sparkled
with a wild and lustrous expression, 'your very looks betray you.'
'Betray me! this is no betrayal,' said she haughtily. 'I have no shame
in declaring that I too covet fame, even as you do. Were some mighty
patron to condescend to favour _me_--to fancy that _I_ resembled, I know
not what great personage--to imagine that in _my_ traits of look and
voice theirs were reflected, it is just as likely I should thank fortune
for the accident, and bid adieu to _you_, as you intend, to-morrow or
next day, to take leave of _me_.'
She spoke boldly and defiantly, her large, full eyes gazing at his with
a steadfast and unflinching look, while Gerald held down his head in
sorrow and in shame.
Nor was it alone with himself that Gerald was at war, for Marietta had
shocked and startled him by qualities he had never suspected in her.
In her passion she had declared that her heart was set upon ambitions
daring as his own; and, even granting that much of what she said was
prompted by wounded pride, there was in her wildly excited glances
and her trembling lips the sign of a temperament that knew little
of forgiveness. If he was then amazed by discovering Marietta to be
different from all he had ever seen her, he was more in love with her
than ever.
She had opened the window,
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