with her indolent walk and
indifferent air, he watched her with a sense of relief of which he was
himself unconscious.

"The General am in his own room," she muttered in answer to his
question, turning back as she spoke, "something don't seem to 'gree with
him somehow this mornin', 'pears like he ain't right well."

The unpleasant impression left by this woman passed but partially away;
trifles sometimes affect sensitive characters with a feeling of unrest
long after the cause is displaced from the memory; disturbed by this
shadowy feeling, James arose and sought General Harrington's room,
wondering a little in his mind what the business might be which
occasioned this unusual request for an interview. He passed the mulatto
woman in one of the passages, who retreated to the wall and stood with
her gaze bent on the floor as he passed, but the moment his back was
turned the sleepy lids rose suddenly from over her black eyes that
flamed out with evil passions, and a repulsive smile stirred her mouth
till it worked like a nest of reptiles. Again an unpleasant sensation
crept over James Harrington, and he hurried forward with an
unconquerable desire to escape her presence.

He found General Harrington alone, surrounded by the luxurious
appointments which distinguished his apartments above all others in the
house; but the old man was restless and even pallid, as if some unusual
moral force had been necessary to urge on this interview with a man
against whom he meditated a temptation so atrocious.

For the first moment these two men stood regarding each other in
silence. General Harrington stood up at his visitor's approach, but all
his self-possession was insufficient to keep his limbs from trembling
and the color from fleeing his face. The painful compression of his lips
grew more rigid, and a cold glitter stole into his eyes as they met the
calm questioning gaze fixed upon them.

"You desired to speak with me, sir," said James Harrington at length,
with that gentle respect which had become a habit of self-control,
rather than a genuine impulse of reverence for the man before him.

"Yes, sit down," said the General, with a cold harshness of tone so at
variance with his usual bland insincerity, that James Harrington looked
at him in grave surprise, as he drew a seat toward the library table.
For a moment there was profound silence between the two; then the
General turned stiffly in his chair, placed one hand on a book w