onard's at that.

Thus, subtly yet effectually, did these two minds communicate in a crowd
that never noticed nor suspected the delicate interchange of sentiment
that was going on under their very eyes.

In a general way compliments did not seduce Mrs. Gaunt: she was well
used to them, for one thing. But to be praised in that sacred edifice,
and from the pulpit, and by such an orator as Leonard, and to be praised
in words so sacred and beautiful that the ears around her drank them
with delight,--all this made her heart beat, and filled her with soft
and sweet complacency.

And then to be thanked in public, yet, as it were, clandestinely, this
gratified the furtive tendency of woman.

There was no irritability this afternoon; but a gentle radiance that
diffused itself on all around, and made the whole household
happy,--especially Griffith, whose pipe she filled, for once, with her
own white hand, and talked dogs, horses, calves, hinds, cows, politics,
markets, hay, to please him: and seemed interested in them all.

But the next day she changed: ill at ease, and out of spirits, and could
settle to nothing.

It was very hot for one thing: and, altogether, a sort of lassitude and
distaste for everything overpowered her, and she retired into the grove,
and sat languidly on a seat with half-closed eyes.

But her meditations were no longer so calm and speculative as
heretofore. She found her mind constantly recurring to one person, and,
above all, to the discovery she had made of her portrait in his
possession. She had turned it off to Betty Gough; but here, in her calm
solitude and umbrageous twilight, her mind crept out of its cave, like
wild and timid things at dusk, and whispered to her heart that Leonard
perhaps admired her more than was safe or prudent.

Then this alarmed her, yet caused her a secret complacency: and that,
her furtive satisfaction, alarmed her still more.

Now, while she sat thus absorbed, she heard a gentle footstep coming
near. She looked up, and there was Leonard close to her; standing
meekly, with his arms crossed upon his bosom.

His being there so pat upon her thoughts scared her out of her habitual
self-command. She started up, with a faint cry, and stood panting, as if
about to fly, with her beautiful eyes turned large upon him.

He put forth a deprecating hand, and soothed her. "Forgive me, madam,"
said he; "I have unawares intruded on your privacy; I will retire."

"Nay," said she