within the yetdarker heart. The emotion might not be amiable, nor
the thoughts wise, yet were they unnatural? I had experienced something
of them,--not at the sight of gay-dressed people, of wealth and idleness,
pleasure and fashion, but when, at the doors of Parliament, men who have
won noble names, and whose word had weight on the destinies of glorious
England, brushed heedlessly by to their grand arena; or when, amidst the
holiday crowd of ignoble pomp, I had heard the murmur of fame buzz and
gather round some lordly laborer in art or letters: that contrast
between glory so near and yet so far, and one's own obscurity, of course
I had felt it,--who has not? Alas! many a youth not fated to be a
Themistocles will yet feel that the trophies of a Miltiades will not
suffer him to sleep! So I went up to Vivian and laid my hand on his
shoulder.

"Ah!" said he, more gently than usual, "I am glad to see you, and to
apologize,--I offended you the other day. But you would not get very
gracious answers from souls in purgatory if you talked to them of the
happiness of heaven. Never speak to me about homes and fathers!
Enough! I see you forgive me. Why are you not going to the opera? You
can."

"And you too, if you so please. A ticket is shamefully dear, to be
sure; still, if you are fond of music, it is a luxury you can afford."

"Oh! you flatter me if you fancy the prudence of saving withholds me. I
did go the other night, but I shall not go again. Music!--when you go
to the opera, is it for the music?"

"Only partially, I own; the lights, the scene, the pageant, attract me
quite as much. But I do not think the opera a very profitable pleasure