"It may seem folly--madness if you will, that the brilliant and all-idolized Miss Vernon should listen to the vows of so lowly an adorer: but try me--prove me, and own--yes, you _will_ own some years hence, that that folly has been happy beyond the happiness of prudence or ambition." "This!" answered Constance, struggling with her emotions; "this is no spot or hour for such a conference.

Let us meet to-morrow--the western chamber." "And the hour ?" "Twelve!" "And I may hope--till then ?" Constance again grew pale; and in a voice that, though it scarcely left her lips, struck coldness and dismay into his sudden and delighted confidence, answered, "No, Percy, there is no hope!--none!" (1) Then uncommon..