"I," said Georgiana, "love the cause only from association with it; but
in my opinion Marini is right. He deals with young and fervent minds,
that require a ceremony to keep them fast--yes, dear, and women more than
others do. After that, they cease to have to rely upon themselves--a
reliance their good instinct teaches them is frail. There, now; have I
put my sex low enough?"

She slid her head against her brother's shoulder. If he had ever met a
man worthy of her, Merthyr would have sighed to feel that all her
precious love was his own.

"Is there any likelihood that Belloni will be there tonight?" he asked.

She shook her head. "He has not been there since. He went for that
purpose."

"Perhaps Marini is right, after all," said Merthyr, smiling.

Georgiana knew what he meant, and looked at him fondly.

"But I have never bound you to an oath," he resumed, in the same tone.

"I dare say you consider me a little different from most," said
Georgiana. She had as small reserve with her brother as vanity, and
could even tell him what she thought of her own worth without
depreciating it after the fashion of chartered hypocrites.

Mr. Powys wrote to Marini to procure him an interview with Belloni as
early as possible, and then he and Georgiana went down to Lady Charlotte.