HARLEY.---"Complete the sentence. Are you ashamed to retract? Fie on
your pride and obstinacy!"

VIOLANTE.--"No; but even here there have been war and heroism,--the war
of genius with adversity, and heroism in the comforter who shared it and
consoled. Ah, wherever pity and admiration are both felt, something
nobler than mere sorrow must have gone before: the heroic must exist."

"Helen does not know what the word 'heroic' means," said Harley, rather
sadly; "you must teach her."

"Is it possible," thought he as he spoke, "that a Randal Leslie could
have charmed this grand creature? No 'Heroic' surely, in that sleek
young placeman.---"Your father," he said aloud, and fixing his eyes on
her face, "sees much, he tells me, of a young man about Leonard's age,
as to date; but I never estimate the age of men by the parish register,
and I should speak of that so-called young man as a contemporary of my
great-grandfather,--I mean Mr. Randal Leslie. Do you like him?"

"Like him," said Violante, slowly, and as if sounding her own mind,--
"like him--yes."

"Why?" asked Harley, with dry and curt indignation. "His visits seem to
please my dear father. Certainly I like him."

"Hum. He professes to like you, I suppose?"

Violante laughed unsuspiciously. She had half a mind to reply, "Is that
so strange?" But her respect for Harley stopped her. The words would