fatal and resistless seduction, without that patrician grace of air and form, and that rarity of personal attractions, which made her one of those women whom no man looks on without homage, few men without passion. With the ease which long acquaintance with the world alone gives, she spoke on all topics, lightly, brilliantly, the languor or the satire of one moment changed the next to the poetry or the earnestness which seemed to lie full as much in her nature; and even while she spoke of trifles, she learnt every trait, every touch of his life, his character, his fortunes, and his tastes, though he never observed or dreamt of it—though he never noted in turn that in it all no word escaped her that could have told him who she was, whence she came, what her past had been, or what her present was. The frank, bold, loyal nature of the man loved and trusted, and had nothing to conceal. She, in penetration as keen as she was in tact most subtle, read his life at will, while her own was veiled.
The caïque dropped indolently down the shore, the oars scarcely parting the bright waters, the warmth of the day tempered by a low west wind, blowing gently from the Levantine isles, spice-laden with their odour. With the rise and fall of the
