and humble birth?
And how many a woman had he not seen set her heart on quite other things!
The physician was not more than five years his senior; and recalling the
expression in his eyes as he looked at Paula only that morning Orion felt
more and more uneasy.

Philippus loved Paula.--A trifling incident suddenly occurred to his mind
which made him certain on that point; he had only too much experience in
such matters. Yesterday, it had struck him that ever since his father's
death--that was ever since Paula's change of residence--Philippus dressed
more carefully than had been his wont. "Now this," thought he, "is a
change that does not come over so serious a man unless it is caused by
love."

A mingled torment of pain and rage shot through him as he again saw the
tall shadow cross the window. For the first time in his life he felt the
pangs of jealousy, which he had so often laughed at in his friends; but
was it not absurd to allow it to torture him; was he not sure, since that
morning's meeting, quite sure of Paula? And Philippus! Even if he, Orion,
must retire into the background before a higher judge, in the eyes of a
woman he surely had the advantage!--But in spite of all this it troubled
him to know that the physician was with Paula at such an hour; he angrily
pulled his horse's head round, and it was a pleasure to him to feel the
fiery creature, unused as it was to such rough treatment, turn restive at
it now. By the time he had gone a hundred steps from those windows with
their cursed glare, the horse was displaying all the temper and vice that
had been taken out of him as a foal. Orion had to fight a pitched battle
with his steed, and it was a relief to him to exercise his power with
curb and knee. In vain did the creature dance round and round; in vain
did he rear and plunge; the steady rider was his master; and it was not
till he had brought him to quietness and submission that Orion drew
breath and looked about him while he patted the horse's smooth neck.

Close at hand, behind a low hedge, spread the thick, dark groves of
Susannah's garden and between them the back of the house was visible,
being more brilliantly lighted than even Paula's rooms. Three of the
windows showed lights; two were rather dim, however, the result probably
of one lamp only.

All this could not matter to him; nevertheless he remained gazing at the
roof of the colonnade which went round the house below the upper floor;
for, on the