nstead of money at cards; but I like him: he has
that easy flippancy in talk that asks for no effort to follow, and he says
his little nothings nicely, and he is not too eager as to great ones, or
too energetic, which you all are here. I like him.'

'I fancied you liked the eager and enthusiastic people, and that you felt a
warm interest in Donogan's fate.'

'Yes, I do hope they'll not catch him. It would be too horrid to think of
any one we had known being hanged! And then, poor fellow, he was very much
in love.'

'Poor fellow!' sighed out Kate.

'Not but it was the only gleam of sunlight in his existence; he could go
away and fancy that, with Heaven knows what chances of fortune, he might
have won me.'

'Poor fellow!' cried Kate, more sorrowfully than before.

'No, far from it, but very "happy fellow" if he could feed his heart with
such a delusion.'

'And you think it fair to let him have this delusion?'

'Of course I do. I'd no more rob him of it than I'd snatch a life-buoy from
a drowning man. Do you fancy, child, that the swimmer will always go about
with the corks that have saved his life?'

'These mock analogies are sorry arguments,' said Kate.

'Tell me, does your Austrian sing? I see he understands music, but I hope
he can sing.'

'I can tell you next to nothing of my Austrian--if he must be called so. It
is five years since we met, and all I know is how little like he seems to
what he once was.'

'I'm sure he is vastly improved: a hundred times better mannered; with more
ease, more quickness, and more readiness in conversation. I like him.'

'I trust he'll find out his great good-fortune--that is, if it be not a
delusion.'

For a few seconds there was a silence--a silence so complete that Gorman
could hear the rustle of a dress as Nina moved from her place, and seated
herself on the battlement of the terrace. He then could catch the low
murmuring sounds of her voice, as she hummed an air to herself, and at
length traced it to be the song she had sung that same evening in the
drawing-room. The notes came gradually more and more distinct, the tones
swelled out into greater fulness, and at last, with one long-sustained
cadence of thrilling passion, she cried, '_Non mi amava--non mi amava!_'
with an expression of heart-breaking sorrow, the last syllables seeming to
linger on the lips as if a hope was deserting them for ever. '_Oh, non mi
amava!_' cried she, and her voice trembled as though the av