pendence and trust in her cousin had come back, and
all through the journey she was quite tranquil. It is true, we hardly
ever saw her face, for her veil was closely drawn. Her grief was not the
less painful to witness because it was so little demonstrative. Very old
and very young women, in the plenitude of their benevolence, are good
enough to sympathize with any tale of woe, however absurdly exaggerated;
but men, I think, are most moved by the simple and quiet sorrows. We
smile at the critical point of a spasmodic tragedy, complacently as the
Lucretian philosopher looking down from the cliff on the wild sea; we
yawn over the wailings of Werter and Raphael, but we ponder gravely over
the last chapters of the _Heir of Redclyffe_, and feel a curious
sensation in the throat--perhaps the slightest dimness of vision--when
we read in _The Newcomes_ how that noble old soldier crowned the
chivalry of a stainless life, dying in the Gray Brother's gown.

There were many at Rome who had known Forrester and loved him well, and
all these followed him to his grave. I do not think he had an enemy on
earth except the man who slew him.

What are the qualifications of a general favorite? Good looks, good
birth, good-humor, and good assurance will do much; but the want of one
or more of these will not invalidate the election, nor the union of all
four insure it. It must be very pleasant to serve in the _compagnie
d'elite_. They have privileges to which the Line may not aspire. It does
not much matter what they do. Their victories make them no enemies, and
their defeats raise them up hosts of sympathizers and apologists. When
they err gravely, if you hint at the misdemeanor, a "true believer"
looks at you indignantly, not to say contemptuously, and says, "What
could you expect? It's only poor--" Yes, it is a great gift--Amiability;
and when the possessor dies, it is profoundly true that better men might
be better spared.

Very soon Raymond came to take his daughter back to England. That calm
old calculating machine was more deranged and shocked by the catastrophe
than I should have thought it possible he would have been by any earthly
disaster. He was getting older now, and more broken, it is true, and so,
perhaps, was more accessible to the weakness of sympathy. At all events,
nothing could be kinder and more considerate than his conduct to Isabel.

Guy and I still lingered on in Rome. He was untiring in his researches,
but quite uns