g their lives in
misery under the mere imagination of weight. Your mind, which seizes
ideas so readily, my Romola, is able to discriminate between substantial
good and these brain-wrought fantasies. Ask yourself, dearest, what
possible good can these books and antiquities do, stowed together under
your father's name in Florence, more than they would do if they were
divided or carried elsewhere? Nay, is not the very dispersion of such
things in hands that know how to value them, one means of extending
their usefulness? This rivalry of Italian cities is very petty and
illiberal. The loss of Constantinople was the gain of the whole
civilised world."

Romola was still too thoroughly under the painful pressure of the new
revelation Tito was making of himself, for her resistance to find any
strong vent. As that fluent talk fell on her ears there was a rising
contempt within her, which only made her more conscious of her bruised,
despairing love, her love for the Tito she had married and believed in.
Her nature, possessed with the energies of strong emotion, recoiled from
this hopelessly shallow readiness which professed to appropriate the
widest sympathies and had no pulse for the nearest. She still spoke
like one who was restrained from showing all she felt. She had only
drawn away her arm from his knee, and sat with her hands clasped before
her, cold and motionless as locked waters.

"You talk of substantial good, Tito! Are faithfulness, and love, and
sweet grateful memories, no good? Is it no good that we should keep our
silent promises on which others build because they believe in our love
and truth? Is it no good that a just life should be justly honoured?
Or, is it good that we should harden our hearts against all the wants
and hopes of those who have depended on us? What good can belong to men
who have such souls? To talk cleverly, perhaps, and find soft couches
for themselves, and live and die with their base selves as their best
companions."

Her voice had gradually risen till there was a ring of scorn in the last
words; she made a slight pause, but he saw there were other words
quivering on her lips, and he chose to let them come.

"I know of no good for cities or the world if they are to be made up of
such beings. But I am not thinking of other Italian cities and the
whole civilised world--I am thinking of my father, and of my love and
sorrow for him, and of his just claims on us. I would give up