feel the chains that bound him to Lucille
strengthening daily, and to cherish in his overflowing heart the
sweetness of increasing gratitude; it was something that he could not
see years wrinkle that open brow, or dim the tenderness of that touching
smile; it was something that to him she was beyond the reach of time,
and preserved to the verge of a grave (which received them both within
a few days of each other) in all the bloom of her unwithering affection,
in all the freshness of a heart that never could grow old!

Gertrude, who had broken in upon Trevylyan's story by a thousand anxious
interruptions, and a thousand pretty apologies for interrupting, was
charmed with a tale in which true love was made happy at last, although
she did not forgive St. Amand his ingratitude, and although she
declared, with a critical shake of the head, that "it was very unnatural
that the mere beauty of Julie, or the mere want of it in Lucille, should
have produced such an effect upon him, if he had ever _really_ loved
Lucille in his blindness."

As they passed through Malines, the town assumed an interest in
Gertrude's eyes to which it scarcely of itself was entitled. She looked
wistfully at the broad market-place, at a corner of which was one of
those out-of-door groups of quiet and noiseless revellers, which Dutch
art has raised from the Familiar to the Picturesque; and then glancing
to the tower of St. Rembauld, she fancied, amidst the silence of noon,
that she yet heard the plaintive cry of the blind orphan, "Fido, Fido,
why hast thou deserted me?"

CHAPTER V. ROTTERDAM.--THE CHARACTER OF THE DUTCH.--THEIR RESEMBLANCE TO
THE GERMANS.--A DISPUTE BETWEEN VANE AND TREVYLYAN, AFTER THE MANNER OF
THE ANCIENT NOVELISTS, AS TO WHICH IS PREFERABLE, THE LIFE OF ACTION OR
THE LIFE OF REPOSE.--TREVYLYAN'S CONTRAST BETWEEN LITERARY AMBITION AND
THE AMBITION OF PUBLIC LIFE.

OUR travellers arrived at Rotterdam on a bright and sunny day. There is
a cheerfulness about the operations of Commerce,--a life, a bustle,
an action which always exhilarate the spirits at the first glance.
Afterwards they fatigue us; we get too soon behind the scenes, and find
the base and troublous passions which move the puppets and conduct the
drama.

But Gertrude, in whom ill health had not destroyed the vividness of
impression that belongs to the inexperienced, was delighted at the
cheeriness of all around her. As she leaned lightly on Trevylyan's arm,
h