On waking, she found that Edward had risen before her; she heard him
moving about in the dressing-room; then he came to the door, looked in,
and, seeing her eyes open, said, "Ah, so you are awake! I hope you slept
well? I'm sorry for your sake that it is still storming."

"Yes, I slept soundly, thank you; and as for the storm, I'll just have
to try to bear with it and its consequences as patiently as possible,"
she sighed.

"A wise resolve, my dear. I hope you will try to carry it out." he
returned. "Now I must run away, and leave you to make your toilet, as I
have some little matters to attend to before breakfast."

She made no reply; and he passed out of the room, and down the stairs.

"Poor little woman!" he said to himself: "she looks depressed, though
usually she is so bright and cheery. I hope, from my heart, Miss Deane
may never darken these doors again."

Zoe was feeling quite out of spirits over the prospect of another day to
be spent in society so distasteful: she lay for a moment contemplating
it ruefully.

"The worst of it is, that she manages to make me appear so unamiable and
unattractive in my husband's eyes," she sighed to herself. "But I'll
foil her efforts," she added, between her shut teeth, springing up, and
beginning her toilet as she spoke: "he likes to have me bright and
cheery, and well and becomingly dressed, and so I will be."

She made haste to arrange her hair in the style he considered most
becoming, and to don the morning-dress he most admired.

As she put the finishing touches to her attire, she thought she heard
his step on the stairs, and ran out eagerly to meet him, and claim a
morning kiss.

But the bright, joyous expression of her face suddenly changed to one of
anger and chagrin as she caught the sound of his and Miss Deane's voices
in the hall below, and, looking over the balustrade, saw them go into
the library together.

"She begins early! It's a pity if I can't have my own husband to myself
even before breakfast," Zoe muttered, stepping back into the
dressing-room.

Her first impulse was to remain where she was; the second, to go down at
once, and join them.

She hastened to do so, but, before she reached the foot of the stairway,
the breakfast-bell rang; and, instead of going into the library, she
passed on directly to the dining-room, and, as the other two entered a
moment later, gave Miss Deane a cold "Good-morning," and Edward a half
reproachful, half plead