be overheard--she was speaking
low; but, though visibly embarrassed, she answered distinctly,

"Because in England there is the noblest career for noble minds."

Harley was startled, and replied, with a slight sigh, "At your age I
should have said as you do. But this England of ours is so crowded with
noble minds that they only jostle each other, and the career is one
cloud of dust."

"So, I have read, seems a battle to a common soldier, but not to the
chief."

"You have read good descriptions of battles, I see."

Mrs. Riccabocca, who thought this remark a taunt upon her
step-daughter's studies, hastened to Violante's relief.

"Her papa made her read the history of Italy, and I believe that is full
of battles."

HARLEY.--"All history is, and all women are fond of war and of warriors.
I wonder why?"

VIOLANTE (turning to Helen, and in a very low voice, resolved that
Harley should not hear this time).--"We can guess why,--can we not?"

HARLEY (hearing every word, as if it had been spoken in St. Paul's
Whispering Gallery).--"If you can guess, Helen, pray tell me."

HELEN (shaking her pretty head, and answering with a livelier smile than
usual).--"But I am not fond of war and warriors."

HARLEY (to Violante).--"Then I must appeal at once to you,
self-convicted Bellona that you are. Is it from the cruelty natural to
the female disposition?"

VIOLANTE (with a sweet musical laugh). "From two propensities still more
natural to it."

HARLEY.--"YOU puzzle me: what can they be?"

VIOLANTE.--"Pity and admiration; we pity the weak and admire the brave."

Harley inclined his head, and was silent.

Lady Lansmere had suspended her conversation with Riccabocca to listen
to this dialogue. "Charming!" she cried.

"You have explained what has often perplexed me. Ah, Harley, I am glad
to see that your satire is foiled: you have no reply to that."

"No; I willingly own myself defeated, too glad to claim the signorina's
pity, since my cavalry sword hangs on the wall, and I can have no longer
a professional pretence to her admiration."

He then rose, and glanced towards the window. "But I see a more
formidable disputant for my conqueror to encounter is coming into the
field,--one whose profession it is to substitute some other romance for
that of camp and siege."

"Our friend Leonard," said Riccabocca, turning his eye also towards the
window. "True; as Quevedo says, wittily, 'Ever since there has been
so great a deman