nius with adversity, and heroism in the comforter who shared it
and consoled. Ah, wherever pity and admiration are both felt, something
nobler than mere sorrow must have gone before: the heroic must exist."

"Helen does not know what the word 'heroic' means," said Harley, rather
sadly; "you must teach her."

"Is it possible," thought he as he spoke, "that a Randal Leslie could
have charmed this grand creature? No 'Heroic' surely, in that sleek
young placeman.--Your father," he said aloud, and fixing his eyes on her
face, "sees much, he tells me, of a young man about Leonard's age, as to
date; but I never estimate the age of men by the parish register, and
I should speak of that so-called young man as a contemporary of my
great-grandfather,--I mean Mr. Randal Leslie. Do you like him?"

"Like him," said Violante, slowly, and as if sounding her own
mind,--"like him--yes."

"Why?" asked Harley, with dry and curt indignation. "His visits seem to
please my dear father. Certainly I like him."

"Hum. He professes to like you, I suppose?"

Violante laughed unsuspiciously. She had half a mind to reply, "Is that
so strange?" But her respect for Harley stopped her. The words would
have seemed to her pert. "I am told he is clever," resumed Harley.

"Oh, certainly."

"And he is rather handsome. But I like Leonard's face better."

"Better--that is not the word. Leonard's face is as that of one who has
gazed so often upon Heaven; and Mr. Leslie's--there is neither sunlight
nor starlight reflected there."

"My dear Violante?" exclaimed Harley, overjoyed; and he pressed her
hand.

The blood rushed over the girl's cheek and brow; her hand trembled in
his. But Harley's familiar exclamation might have come from a father's
lips.

At this moment Helen softly approached them, and looking timidly into
her guardian's face, said, "Leonard's mother is with him: he asks me to
call and see her. May I?"

"May you! A pretty notion the signorina must form of your enslaved state
of pupilage, when she hears you ask that question. Of course you may."

"Will you come with us?"

Harley looked embarrassed. He thought of the widow's agitation at his
name; of that desire to shun him, which Leonard had confessed, and of
which he thought he divined the cause. And so divining, he too shrank
from such a meeting.

"Another time, then," said he, after a pause. Helen looked disappointed,
but said no more.

Violante was surprised at this ungracio