needed by the man whose whole life is one strain after glory--whose soul
sinks, in fatigue, to the companionship of earth--is not the love of a
nature like his own. He is right,--it is repose! While I!--it is true;
boy that he is, his intuitions are wiser than all my experience! It is
excitement, energy, elevation, that Love should bestow on me. But I have
chosen; and, at least, with Helen my life will be calm, and my hearth
sacred. Let the rest sleep in the same grave as my youth."

"But," said Leonard, wishing kindly to arouse his noble friend from a
revery which he felt was mournful, though he did not divine its true
cause,--"but you have not yet told me the name of the signorina's suitor.
May I know?"

"Probably one you never heard of. Randal Leslie,--a placeman. You
refused a place; you were right."

"Randal Leslie? Heaven forbid!" cried Leonard, revealing his surprise at
the name.

"Amen! But what do you know of him?

"Leonard related the story of Burley's pamphlet."

Harley seemed delighted to hear his suspicions of Randal confirmed. "The
paltry pretender;--and yet I fancied that he might be formidable!
However, we must dismiss him for the present,--we are approaching Madame
di Negra's house. Prepare yourself, and remember your promise."