surely I may contrast our situations without wishing hers to change."
And Francesca was drawing a contrast as contrasts are usually drawn, namely, as unfairly as possible. We take some most favourable portion of another's existence, and compare it with one of the darkest in our own, and then exclaim against the difference.
Gradually the young Italian's reverie became merged in one of the sweet Venetian barcarolles which had been familiar to her from infancy, when her attention was first attracted, and then fixed, by the conversation carried on by two individuals in the walk behind her, and whose voices she at once recognised to be those of the Chevalier de Joinville and Evelyn. There is not much to be said in defence of her overhearing; but is there a girl in the world who would not listen to her own name, and from the lips of her lover?—it must be so pleasant to hear him confirm to others what he has first said to yourself. Curiosity would be quite motive enough; but vanity and curiosity together are irresistible.
"What," asked the Chevalier, "will your beautiful Italian do?"
"Console herself," replied Evelyn. "To be very candid with you, I am getting heartily tired
