So, tossed between these two horns of a dilemma, Leonard could not make Sappha the unconditional promise she asked. He had given to Aaron Burr a fealty founded on an intense admiration for his great abilities and his great wrongs. The physical charm of the man had also fascinated Leonard, as it fascinated almost every one who came fairly under its influence; and thus, though warned by one ancestral strain to retire from some malignity he could not control, he was urged forward by another sentiment which put his word, his honour, his friendship, and his loyalty before all other considerations. These underlying motives of action were but partially understood by Leonard, and were not comprehended in any measure by Sappha. But at eighteen years of age we do not need to know, in order to feel; we can feel without knowledge; and Sappha was certain that the association of her lover with a man so unfortunate as Mr. Burr would include both of them in its inimical proneness to calamity. The mingling of these elements in Leonard’s nature must be recognised before we can understand how a lover, earnest and devoted, could hesitate about casting adrift a friendship so recent when it threatened a tie still fonder and more personal. But the most invulnerable sentiments a man has to conquer are those he brings with him from previous incarnations. Prejudices and opinions planted in his mind during last year, or the present year, will have a demonstrative vitality; but there is a stubborn quality about those we bring with us that is only gained by passing through the grave and tasting of immortality. If Sappha’s and Leonard’s love for each other was not of the past, then it was hardly one year old; yet she was demanding for it a sacrifice of feelings incorporate in Leonard’s nature from unknown centuries. They walked together talking only of Mr. Burr for more than an hour; then Sappha said “she was cold and must go into the house.” She was not so much cold as weary. We are always weary when we do not understand, and Sappha could not understand why Mr. Burr should interfere in her affairs. At the door Leonard spoke to her about the theatre on Friday night, and she promised to give her father and mother his invitation. “It is too late to detain you longer, my beloved,” he said; “but I will call early in the morning for the answer. I hope they will accept my offer. It will make me very proud and happy.” Sappha was sure that her mother would do so. “My father is always uncertain,” she said, “but I think he will go if I ask him.”