ish I could have caught her.'

Violet held her breath. The grand parterre, laid out in regularly-shaped
borders, each containing a mass of one kind of flower, flaming
elscholchias, dazzling verbenas, azure nemophilas, or sober heliotrope,
the broad walks, the great pile of building, the innumerable windows,
the long ascent of stone steps, their balustrade guarded by sculptured
sphinxes, the lofty entrance, and the tall powdered footmen, gave her
the sense of entering a palace. She trembled, and clung to Arthur's arm
as they came into a great hall, where a vista of marble pillars, orange
trees, and statues, opened before her; but comfort came in the cordial
brotherly greeting with which John here met them.

'She is frightened out of her senses,' said Arthur.

John's reply was an encouraging squeeze of the hand, which he retained,
leading her, still leaning on her husband's arm, into a room, where an
elderly gentleman was advancing; both her hands were placed within his
by her supporters on either side, and he kissed her, gravely saying,
'Welcome, my dear.' He then presented her to a formal embrace from a
tall lady; and Arthur saying, 'Well, Theodora! here, Violet,' again took
her hand, and put it into another, whose soft clasp was not ready, nor
was the kiss hearty.

Presently Violet, a little reassured by Lord Martindale's gentle tones,
ventured on a survey. She was on the same sofa with Lady Martindale; but
infinitely remote she felt from that form like an eastern queen,
richly dressed, and with dark majestic beauty, whose dignity was rather
increased than impaired by her fifty years. She spoke softly to the shy
stranger, but with a condescending tone, that marked the width of the
gulf, and Violet's eyes, in the timid hope of sympathy, turned towards
the sister.

But, though the figure was younger, and the dress plainer, something
seemed to make her still more unapproachable. There was less beauty,
less gentleness, and the expression of her countenance had something
fixed and stern. Now and then there was a sort of agitation of the
muscles of the face, and her eyes were riveted on Arthur, excepting that
if he looked towards her, she instantly looked out of the window. She
neither spoke nor moved: Violet thought that she had not given her a
single glance, but she was mistaken, Theodora was observing, and forming
a judgment.

This wife, for whose sake Arthur had perilled so much, and inflicted
such acute pain on h