Page:Francesca Carrara 1.pdf/8

4 rebuke its strength, and genius is brought to the level—ay, below the level—of common humanity, by an unquenchable thirst for its applause.

"If she had been really my sister," thought Guido, "she would have entered into my feelings;" and he turned almost resentfully away. One glance at the pale cheek and glistening eyelashes of his cousin (for such she really was, though the names of brother and sister came familiar to their familiar intercourse) brought him again to her side.

"Why do you weep, dearest Francesca?" he whispered, in those low and musical tones which only affection can utter.

For reply she leant her head on his shoulder; and as he threw his arm round her waist, he could feel that strong, though suppressed, emotion shook the slight frame which he supported. He led her tenderly to the window, and they sat down together. Suddenly a few notes of distant music arose on the air. Both started as if each had some peculiar interest in the sound. The flush died as rapidly as it came on the cheek of Francesca:

"It is not yet time for vespers—it is only the song of some boatmen."

Guido gazed upon her earnestly. "Francesca,