sed, followed Miss Eliza. The old
lady walked slowly, with that half-failing step that betokens the body's
weariness after great mental or moral strain. Indeed, as John regained
her side, she put her arm in his as if her feebleness needed his
support. Thus they went away together, the aunt and her beloved boy, who
had so sorely grieved and disappointed her.

But if this sight touched me, this glimpse of the vanquished leaving the
field after supreme acknowledgment of defeat, upon Hortense it wrought
another effect altogether. She stood looking after them, and as she
looked, the whole woman from head to foot, motionless as she was, seemed
to harden. Yet still she looked, until at length, slowly turning, her
eyes chanced to fall upon Mrs. Gregory St. Michael's card-case. There
it lay, the symbol of Kings Port's capitulation. She swooped down and
up with a flying curve of grace, holding her prey caught; and then,
catching also her handsome skirts on either side, she danced like a
whirling fan among the empty chairs.

XVIII: Again the Replacers

But a little while, and all that I had just witnessed in such vivid
dumb-show might have seemed to me in truth some masque; so smooth had
it been, and voiceless, coming and going like a devised fancy. And
after the last of the players was gone from the stage, leaving the white
cloth, and the silver, and the cups, and the groups of chairs near the
pleasant arbor, I watched the deserted garden whence the sunlight was
slowly departing, and it seemed to me more than ever like some empty and
charming scene in a playhouse, to which the comedians would in due
time return to repeat their delicate pantomime. But these were mental
indulgences, with which I sat playing until the sight of my interrupted
letter to Aunt Carola on the table before me brought the reality of
everything back into my thoughts; and I shook my head over Miss Eliza. I
remembered that hand of hers, lying in despondent acquiescence upon
her lap, as the old lady sat in her best dress, formally and faithfully
accepting the woman whom her nephew John had brought upon them as his
bride-elect--formally and faithfully accepting this distasteful person,
and thus atoning as best she could to her beloved nephew for the
wrong that her affection had led her to do him in that ill-starred and
inexcusable tampering with his affairs.

But there was my letter waiting. I took my pen, and finished what I had
to say about the negro