hat my love for Merthyr may
avoid excess." To such a state of clearness much self-questioning brought
her: but her blood was as yet unwarmed; and that is a condition fostering
self-deception as much as when it rages.

Madame Marini wrote to ask whether Emilia might receive the visits of a
Sir Purcell Barrett, whom they had met, and whom Emilia called her
friend; adding: "The other gentleman has called at our old lodgings three
times. The last time our landlady says, he wept. Is it an Englishman,
really?"

Merthyr laughed at this, remarking: "Charlotte is not so vigilant, after
all."

"He wept." Georgiana thought and remembered the cold self-command that
his face had shown when Emilia claimed him, and his sole reply was, "I am
engaged to this lady," designating Lady Charlotte. Now, too, some of
Emilia's phrases took life in her memory. She studied them, thinking over
them, as if a voice of nature had spoken. Less and less it seemed to her
that a woman need feel shame to utter them. She interpreted this as her
growth of charity for a girl so violently stricken with love. "In such a
case, the more she says the more is she to be excused; for nothing but a
frenzy of passion could move her to speak so," thought Georgiana.
Accepting the words, and sanctioning the passion, the person of him who
had inspired it stood magnified in its light. She believed that if he had
played with the girl, he repented, and the idea of a man shedding tears
burnt to her heart.

Merthyr and Georgiana remained in Devonshire till a letter from Madame
Marini one morning told them that Emilia had disappeared.

"You delayed too long to go to her, Merthyr," said his sister,
astonishing him. "I understand why; but you may trust to time and scorn
chance too much. Let us go now and find her, if it is not too late."

Marini met them at the station in London, and they heard that Wilfrid had
discovered Marini's new abode, and had called there that morning. "I had
my eye on him. It was not a piece of love-play," said Marini: "and today
she should have seen my Chief, which would have cured her of sis
pestilence of a love, to give her sublime thoughts. Do you love her, Miss
Ford? Aha! it will be Christian names in Italy again."

"I like her very much," said Georgiana; "but I confess it mystifies me to
see you all so excited about her. It must be some attraction possessed by
her--what, I cannot say. I like her, certainly."

"Figlia mia! she is an element-