since his strength had come to be used, not in
passion, but in patience. We dined as best we could without him,
waited all the evening, and sat up till eleven, when we heard him at
the door. I went out and took down the chain to let him in. It was a
wet misty night, and he was soaked through. I begged him to come in
and warm himself, and have something hot, but he shook his head, as if
he could not speak, took his candle, and went upstairs.

I made the tea, for which I had kept the kettle boiling all this time,
and Prometesky took his great cup in to him, presently returning to
say, "He is calm. He has done wisely, he has exhausted himself so that
he will sleep. He says he will see me at once to my retreat in
Normandy. I think it will be best for him."

Count Stanislas was, in fact, on the eve of departure, and in a couple
of days more Harold went away with him, having only broached the matter
to me to make me understand that the break had been his, not Viola's;
and that I must say no more about it.

Dermot had come over and raged against his mother, and even against
Harold, declaring that if the two had "stood out" they would have
prevailed, but that he did not wonder Harold was tired of it.

Harold's look made him repent of that bit of passion, but he was
contemptuous of the "for her sake," which was all Harold uttered as
further defence. "What! tell him it was for her sake when she was
creeping about the house like a ghost, looking as if she had just come
out of a great illness?"

Dermot meant to escort his mother and sister to Florence, chiefly in
order to be a comfort to the latter, but he meant to return to Ireland
as soon as they had joined the St. Glears. "Taking you by the way," he
said, "before going to my private La Trappe."

Prometesky took leave of me, not quite as if we were never to meet
again, for his experimental retreat was to be over at Christmas, and he
would then be able to receive letters. He promised me that, if I then
wrote to him that, Harold stood in need of him for a time, he would
return to us instead of commencing the novitiate which would lead to
his becoming dead to the outer world.

Harold was gone only ten days, and came back late on a Friday evening.
He tried to tell me about what he had done and seen, but broke off and
said, "Well, I am very stupid; I went to all the places they told me to
see at Rouen and everywhere else, but I can't recollect anything about
them."