thlessness of faithless
men; so she would not abate a jot of the tenor of her advice, or cease to
impress on Paula, firmly though lovingly, the necessity of following it.
At last Paula took leave of her, bound by a promise not to pledge herself
irrevocably to Orion till his return from Doomiat, and till the abbess
had informed her by letter what opinion she had formed of him in the
course of their flight.

The high-spirited girl had not shed so many tears, as in the course of
this interview, since the fatal affair at Abyla where she had lost her
father and brother; it was with a tear-stained face and aching head that
she had made her way back, under the scorching mid-day sun, to Rufinus'
house, where she sought her old nurse. Betta had earnestly entreated her
to lie down, and when Paula refused to hear of it she persuaded her at
any rate to bathe her head with water as cold as was procurable in this
terrific heat, and to have her hair carefully rearranged by her skilful
hand; for this had been her mother's favorite remedy against headache.
When, at length, Paula and her lover stood face to face, in a shady spot
in the garden, they both looked embarrassed and estranged. He was pale,
and gazed at her with some annoyance; and her red eyes and knit brows,
for her brain was throbbing with piercing pain, did not tend to improve
his mood. It was her part to explain and excuse herself; and as he did
not at once address her after they had exchanged greetings, she said in a
low tone of urgent entreaty:

"Forgive me for coming so late. How long you must have been waiting! But
parting from my best friend, my second mother, agitated me so
painfully--it was so unspeakably sad.--I did not know how to hold up my
head, it ached so when I came home, and now--oh, I had hoped that we
might meet to-day so differently!"

"But even yesterday you had no time to spare for me," he retorted
sullenly, "and this morning--you were present when Rufinus invited
me--this morning!--I am not exacting, and to you, good God! How could I
be?--But have we not to part, to bid each other farewell--perhaps for
ever? Why should you have given up so much time and strength to your
friend, that so scanty a remnant is left for the lover? That is an unfair
division."

"How could I deny it?" she said with melancholy entreaty. "You are indeed
very right; but I could not leave the child last evening, as soon as she
came, and while she was weeping out all her sorrows