,
with promises and gifts, the desolate girl to the tenderness and
commiseration of her relations. There is nothing an Italian will not
promise, nothing he will not sell; and Godolphin thus purchased,
in reality, a forbearance to Lucilla's strange temper (as it was
considered) which otherwise, assuredly, would not have been displayed.

More than a month had elapsed since the astrologer's decease; and, the
season of the malaria verging to its commencement, Godolphin meditated a
removal to Naples. He strolled, two days prior to his departure, to the
house on the Appia Via, in order to take leave of Lucilla, and bequeath
to her relations his parting injunctions.

It was a strange and harsh face that peered forth on him through the
iron grating of the door before he obtained admittance; and when he
entered, he heard the sound of voices in loud altercation. Among the
rest, the naturally dulcet and silver tones of Lucilla were strained
beyond their wonted key, and breathed the accents of passion and
disdain.

He entered the room whence the sounds of dispute proceeded, and the
first face that presented itself to him was that of Lucilla. It was
flushed with anger; the veins in the smooth forehead were swelled; the
short lip breathed beautiful contempt. She stood at some little distance
from the rest of the inmates of the room, who were seated; and her
posture was erect and even stately, though in wrath: her arms were
folded upon her bosom, and the composed excitement of her figure
contrasted with the play, and fire, and energy of her features.

At Godolphin's appearance, a sudden silence fell upon the conclave; the
uncle and the aunt (the latter of whom had seemed the noisiest)
subsided into apologetic respect to the rich (he was rich to them) young
Englishman; and Lucilla sank into a seat, covered her face with
her small and beautiful hands, and--humbled from her anger and her
vehemence--burst into tears.

"And what is this?" said Godolphin, pityingly.

The Italians hastened to inform him. Lucilla had chosen to absent
herself from home every evening; she had been seen, the last night on
the Corso,--crowded as that street was with the young, the profligate,
and the idle. They could not but reprove "the dear girl" for this
indiscretion (Italians, indifferent as to the conduct of the married,
are generally attentive to that of their single, women); and she
announced her resolution to persevere in it.

"Is this true, my p