pinion.

"Can you also be sure that Camillus can love nothing but his country?
Would one love stop the other?" she persisted, gazing with an air of
steady anxiety for the answer.

"There isn't a doubt about it," said Tracy.

Emilia caught her face in her hands, and exclaimed in a stifling voice:
"It's true! it's true!"

Tracy saw that her figure was shaken with sobs--unmistakeable, hard,
sorrowful convulsions.

"Confound historical facts that make her cry!" he murmured to himself,
in a fury at the Roman fables. "It's no use comforting her with Niebuhr
now. She's got a live Camillus in her brain, and there he'll stick."
Tracy began to mutter the emphatic D.; quite cognizant of her case,
as he supposed. This intensity of human emotion about a dry faggot of
history by no means surprised him; and he was as tender to the grief of
his darling little friend as if he had known the conflict that tore
her in two. Subsequently he related the incident, in a tone of tender
delight, to Wilfrid, whom it smote. "Am I a brute?" asked the latter
of the Intelligences in the seat of his consciousness, and they for the
moment gravely affirmed it. I have observed that when young men obtain
this mental confirmation of their suspicions, they wax less reluctant to
act as brutes than when the doubt restrained them.

He reasoned thus: "I can bring my mind to the idea of losing her, if it
must be so." (Hear, hear! from the unanimous internal Parliament.) "But
I can't make her miserable (cheers)--I can't go and break her heart"
(loud cheers, drowning a faint dissentient hum).--The scene, of which
Tracy had told him, gave Wilfrid a kind of dread of the girl. If that
was her state of feeling upon a distant subject, how would it be when he
applied the knife. Simply, impossible to use the knife at all! Wield it
thou, O Circumstance, babe-munching Chronos, whosoever thou art, that
jarrest our poor human music effectually from hour to hour!

Colonel Pierson paid his promised visit, on his way back to his quarters
at Verona. His stay was shortened by rumours of anticipated troubles in
Italy. One day at table he chanced to observe, speaking of the Milanese,
that they required another lesson, and that it would save the shedding
of blood if, annually, the chief men of the city took a flogging for the
community (senseless arrogance that sensible, and even kindly, men
will sometimes be tempted to utter, and prompted to act on, in that
deteriorating sta