looked from the ground, on which
his eyes had rested while she spoke, upon the earnest and imploring
face of the beautiful creature that now knelt before him, with all the
passions of an ardent and pure, but wholly untutored and half-savage,
nature speaking from the tearful eyes and trembling lips. He looked at
her with an aspect she could not interpret; in his eyes were kindness,
sorrow, and even something, she thought, of love: yet the brow frowned,
and the lip was stern.

"It is in vain that we struggle with our doom," said he, calmly; "listen
to me yet. I am a man, Isabel, in whom there are some good impulses
yet left, but whose life is, on the whole, devoted to a systematic and
selfish desire to enjoy whatever life can afford. To me it is given to
warn: the warning neglected, I interfere no more; I leave her victories
to that Fate that I cannot baffle of her prey. You do not understand me;
no matter: what I am now about to say will be more easy to comprehend.
I tell thee to tear from thy heart all thought of me: thou hast yet the
power. If thou wilt not obey me, thou must reap the seeds that thou wilt
sow. Glyndon, if thou acceptest his homage, will love thee throughout
life; I, too, can love thee."

"You, you--"

"But with a lukewarm and selfish love, and one that cannot last. Thou
wilt be a flower in my path; I inhale thy sweetness and pass on, caring
not what wind shall sup thee, or what step shall tread thee to the dust.
Which is the love thou wouldst prefer?"

"But do you, can you love me,--you, you, Zicci,--even for an hour? Say
it again."

"Yes, Isabel; I am not dead to beauty, and yours is that rarely given to
the daughters of men. Yes, Isabel, I could love thee!"

Isabel uttered a cry of joy, seized his hand, and kissed it through
burning and impassioned tears. Zicci raised her in his arms and
imprinted one kiss upon her forehead.

"Do not deceive thyself," he said; "consider well. I tell thee again
that my love is subjected to the certain curse of change. For my part, I
shall seek thee no more. Thy fate shall be thine own, and not mine. For
the rest, fear not the Prince di--. At present, I can save thee from
every harm." With these words he withdrew himself from her embrace, and
had gained the outer door just as Gionetta came from the kitchen with
her hands full of such cheer as she had managed to collect together.
Zicci laid his hand on the old woman's arm.

"Signor Glyndon," said he, "loves I