how fain I would blot from my memory that baseness of the past! O
Marcian, truest of friends, I slighted your counsel, scoffed at your
warnings, but now I know how wisely and how honestly you spoke.'

'Be that as it may,' said the other. 'But is it possible that, on a
mere glimpse, this Gothic maiden should so have vanquished you?'

'It had been more prudent to hold my peace. But you know me of old.
When I am moved, I must needs unbosom myself; happy that I have one
whom I can trust. Her voice, Marcian! This whisper of the night
breeze in the laurels falls rudely upon the ear after Veranilda's
speech. Never have I heard a tone so soft, so gentle. The first word
she spoke thrilled through me, as never did voice before; and I
listened, listened, hoping she would speak again.'

'Who may she be? Has not the lady Aurelia adorned her origin? Golden
hair and blue eyes are no rarity among daughters of the Goths.'

'Had you seen her!' exclaimed Basil, and grew rapturous again.
Whilst he exhausted language in the effort to prove how remote was
Veranilda from any shape of loveliness easily presented by memory or
imagination, Marcian pondered.

'I can think of but one likelihood,' was his quiet remark, when his
friend had become silent. 'King Theodahad had a daughter, who
married the Gothic captain, Ebrimut.'

'The traitor,' murmured Basil uneasily.

'Or friend of the Romans, as you will. He delivered Rhegium to