It was because of her dangerous qualities that he now sought her, and his courage grew as the conversation became intimate.
He began with a confession.

Head hanging, visage gloomy, in slow, indirect, abashed language, he let it be understood that though truly Basil's friend, he had all along been secretly doing his utmost to frustrate the lover's search for the Gothic maiden Veranilda, and, as part of this purpose, had striven to turn Basil's thoughts to Heliodora.

That he had had no better success grieved him to the heart.
All who wished Basil well, desired that he should marry a lady of his own rank, his own religion, and could he but have won a wife such as Heliodora! 'Alas!' sighed Marcian, 'it was too much to hope.

How could you be other than cold to him?
Had you deigned, thrice gracious lady, to set your beauty, your gifts, in contest with his memory of that other!' In every man that approached her, Heliodora suspected a selfish aim, but it was seldom that she talked with one whose subtlety seemed the equal of her own.

The little she knew of Marcian had predisposed her to regard him as a cold and melancholy nature, quite uninteresting; she eyed him now with her keenest scrutiny, puzzled by his story, vainly seeking its significance.
'Your friend complained to you of my coldness ?' she said distantly.
'He scarce spoke of you.