- ness of betraying a noble, confiding husband,
struck her mind, and filled it with alarm; but such alarm appeared only to accelerate her doom. "If I can resist and remain without deeper guilt, I will continue here," she cried; "and if I fail in the struggle, I will fly with Glenarvon."—This false reasoning consoled her. A calm, more dangerous than the preceding agitation, followed this resolve.
Glenarvon had changed entirely in his manner, in his character; all art, all attempt at wounding or tormenting was passed. He seemed himself the sufferer, and Calantha, the being upon whose attachment he relied, he was as fearful of vexing her, as she was of losing him. On earth he appeared to have no thought but her; and when again and again he repeated, "I never loved as I do now,—oh never." It may be doubted whether that heart exists which could have disbelieved him. Others who affect only,
