It taught him fierceness, injustice, base suspicion, brutal conjecture; it taught him that of which all these are constituents--hatred.
But it did not constrain him to any unworthy action.

The temptation that passed through his mind when he looked from the balcony on the carriage that was to convey Elgar, did not return--or only as a bitter desire, impossible of realization.

Distant from Naples he must remain, awaiting whatsoever might happen.
Ah, bright, gentle, sweet-faced Cecily! Inconceivable to her this suffering that lay upon her friend.

How it would pain her if she knew of it! With what sad, wondering tenderness her eyes would regard him! How kindly would she lay her soft hand in his, and entreat him to be comforted! If he asked her, would she not give him that hand, to be his always?
Perhaps, perhaps; in her gentleness she would submit to this change, and do her best to love him.

And in return he would give her gruff affection, removal from the life to which she was accustomed, loneliness, his uncertain humours, his dubious reputation.