describe the mechanism of those trivial and household springs of
mischief which we see every day at work in our chambers and at our
hearths. It is in these, the lesser intrigues of life, that we mostly
find ourselves at home with the past.

Most cunningly had the Egyptian appealed to Ione's ruling foible--most
dexterously had he applied the poisoned dart to her pride. He fancied
he had arrested what he hoped, from the shortness of the time she had
known Glaucus, was, at most, but an incipient fancy; and hastening to
change the subject, he now led her to talk of her brother. Their
conversation did not last long. He left her, resolved not again to
trust so much to absence, but to visit--to watch her--every day.

No sooner had his shadow glided from her presence, than woman's
pride--her sex's dissimulation--deserted his intended victim, and the
haughty Ione burst into passionate tears.



Chapter VII

THE GAY LIFE OF THE POMPEIAN LOUNGER. A MINIATURE LIKENESS OF THE ROMAN
BATHS.

WHEN Glaucus left Ione, he felt as if he trod upon air. In the
interview with which he had just been blessed, he had for the first time
gathered from her distinctly that his love was not unwelcome to, and
would not be unrewarded by, her. This hope filled him with a rapture
for which earth and heaven seemed too narrow to afford a vent.
Unconscious of the sudden enemy he had left behind, and forgetting not