This was plausible. Ida wished from her inmost soul, that she had never heard Richard Copeland's story, which, after all, might have been coloured, if not sketched by prejudice, or revenge for some slight to himself. She would have taken this young girl, _his_ betrothed, to her bosom, and soothed her fears, and stimulated her failing resolves. But the conviction of her heartlessness was too strong upon her; and her upright nature forbade the assumption of an appearance of confidence she did not feel. She spoke, indeed, as freely as she could of the love which pities and forgives our infirmities and backslidings; but Lelia shook her head dejectedly. She "had not reached her case. I thank you, though, and love you!" She drew her cheek down to her lips. "Have you had much sorrow?" "Not more than falls to the lot of many, more deserving of exemption.--Why?" "Your serenity is so remarkable; you seem never to have suffered." "The ocean is calm sometimes," said Ida, unconsciously. "That is not your emblem," rejoined Lelia. "It is mine; ruffled by every breath--dark in storms--flashing and laughing in sunshine--always changing, yet always the same--and, ah! who believes that there are treasures under the waters which are worth the seeking?" "The ocean is constant in nothing except change," said Ida. "That is the surface!" she spoke exultingly-- "The water is calm and still below; For the winds and waves are absent there,-- And the sands are bright as the stars that glow In the motionless fields of upper air." "Those are fine lines!" said Ida. They were recited with a purity of tone and emphasis that lent them an additional charm. "They are Percival's," was the reply. "I love poetry, if I have not, like one of my friends, received the poetic afflatus. Ah! Improvisatrice! did you think me ignorant of your glorious gift?" "You honour my petty talent by a higher name than it aspires to earn. Your informant was given to exaggeration." "You do not ask who it was!" cried Lelia, peeping into her face. "Ah! that blush! you surmise. Now my demure darling, how will you excuse yourself for not having breathed his name in my hearing, when you knew how deep my interest is in all relating to him or his connections?" This query was ably turned; but Ida's habitual self-control saved her from the pitfall. She would know and confess nothing. "And you dare look in my eyes and deny one of your best friends?" said Lelia. "I deny no one. The merest acquaintance may have imparted this information." "It was not a casual acquaintance. Shall I name him?" "If you choose," said Ida, with quickened pulsation. "Then it was Mr.--look at me!--Mr. Germaine!" The blood flowed regularly again. Miss Arnold's _ruse_, if such was intended, failed signally; and Ida shortly had cause to congratulate herself upon the equanimity she had maintained through the interview.