nd have been. Ah,
lady, wouldst thou take this comfort from me?"

"But," said Constance, gathering courage from the gentleness which
Lucilla's insanity now wore, and trying to soothe, not contradict her
in her present vein, "but in the country, Lucilla, in some quiet and
sheltered nook, you might indulge these visions without the cares and
uncertainty that must now perplex you; without leading this dangerous
and roving life, which must at times expose you to insult, to annoyance,
and discontent you with, yourself."

"You are mistaken, lady," said the astrologer, proudly; "none know me
who do not fear. I am powerful, and I hug my power--it comforts me:
without it, what should I be?--an abject, forsaken, miserable woman.
No! that power I possess--to shake men's secret souls--even if it be
a deceit--even if I should laugh at them, not pity--reconciles me to
myself and to the past. And I am not poor, madam," as, with the common
caprice of her infirmity, an angry suspicion seemed to cross her; "I
want no one's charity, I have learned to maintain myself. Nay, I could
be even wealthy if I would!"

"And," said Constance, seeing that for the present she must postpone her
benevolent intentions, "and he--Godolphin--you forgive him still?"

At that name, it was as if a sudden charm had been whispered to the
fevered heart of the poor fanatic; her head sank from its proud bearing;
a deep, a soft blush coloured the wan cheek; her arms drooped beside
her; she trembled violently; and, after a moment's silence, sank again
on her seat and covered her face with her hands. "Ah!" said she, softly,
"that word brings me back to my young days, when I asked no power but
what love gave me over one heart: it brings me back to the blue Italian
lake, and the waving pines, and our solitary home, and my babe's distant
grave. Tell me," she cried, again starting up, "has he not spoken of me
lately--has he not seen me in his dreams? have I not been present to his
soul when the frame, torpid and locked, severed us no more, and, in the
still hours, I charmed myself to his gaze? Tell me, has he not owned
that Lucilla haunted his pillow? Tell me; and if I err, my spells are
nothing, my power is vanity, and I am the helpless creature thou wouldst
believe me!"

Despite her reason and her firm sense, Constance half shuddered at these
mysterious words, as she recalled what Percy had told her of his dreams
the preceding evening, and the emotions she herself