The Pilgrims of the Rhine

  Gertrude, who had broken in upon Trevylyan's story by a thousand anxiousinterruptions, and a thousand pretty apologies for interrupting, wascharmed with a tale in which true love was made happy at last, althoughshe did not forgive St. Amand his ingratitude, and although shedeclared, with a critical shake of the head, that "it was very unnaturalthat the mere beauty of Julie, or the mere want of it in Lucille, shouldhave produced such an effect upon him, if he had ever _really_ lovedLucille in his blindness."

  As they passed through Malines, the town assumed an interest inGertrude's eyes to which it scarcely of itself was entitled. She lookedwistfully at the broad market-place, at a corner of which was one ofthose out-of-door groups of quiet and noiseless revellers, which Dutchart has raised from the Familiar to the Picturesque; and then glancingto the tower of St. Rembauld, she fancied, amidst the silence of noon,that she yet heard the plaintive cry of the blind orphan, "Fido, Fido,why hast thou deserted me?"