melancholy King. She is not actuated by malevolence, but sheer, heedless folly. To a featherbrained school-girl nothing is sacred."
"But you forget: I have not been accustomed to look on Miss Fanshawe in the light of a featherbrained school-girl. Was she not my divinity—the angel of my career? "
"Hem! There was your mistake."
"To speak the honest truth, without any false rant or assumed romance, there actually was a moment, six months ago, when I thought her divine. Do you remember our conversation about the presents? I was not quite open with you in discussing that subject: the warmth with which you took it up amused me. By way of having the full benefit of your lights, I allowed you to think me more in the dark than I really was. It was that test of the presents which first proved Ginevra mortal. Still her beauty retained its fascination: three days—three hours ago, I was very much her slave. As she passed me to-night, triumphant in beauty, my emotions did her homage; but for one luckless sneer, I should yet be the humblest of her servants. She might have scoffed at me, and, while wounding, she would not soon have
