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Rh "I am willing to remain alone. I have borne worse things than that lately; you can go without me."

Glentworth looked perplexed: "I certainly ought to go, for I must see Count Riccardini; how else can I fulfil my promise to poor Margarita?" "She made you promise to be good to me, to guard me affectionately," thought Isabella; but she could not speak; her heart was very full. "You must see all this, dear Isabella?" reiterated Glentworth. "I do see that it will be better for you to go, my dear; but, as you cannot bring Count Riccardini hither, poor man, and your presence at his abode may bring him no good, and is sure to affect you severely, I think it a pity you should go thither. You must not cherish your sorrow; she begged you would not, for my sake—I ask you not to do it for hers; it is better to encourage no surmises, to recall no memories of the past." "My remaining life must consist only of recollections," said Glentworth, flinging out of the room and the house with an air of utter recklessness; but, ere he had gone many yards, his heart smote him, and he returned with rapid steps, and, running into the room he had left, found Isabella, with her head laid on the table, weeping bitterly. Concluding that his sorrow must be her sorrow, and that all who wept in the Eternal City must weep for Margarita alone, he placed himself on the sofa beside