lt himself color and he had to pause a moment to collect himself
before he could respond with something more than an ordinary greeting to
hers. The dialogue that flashed through his mind in that instant began
with sentences full of meaning. But all he said was:

"Yes, here I am," which really did not deserve the hearty reply:

"Thank God for that!" nor the bewitching embarrassment of the
explanation that ensued: "on my mother's account."

Again he blushed; he, the man who had long since forgotten his youthful
shyness. He asked after Dame Joanna, and how she was bearing her
trouble, and then he said gravely: "I was the bearer of bad news
yesterday, and to-day again I have come like a bird of ill-omen."

"You?" she said with a smile, and the simple word conveyed so sweet a
doubt of his capacity for bringing evil that he could not help saying to
himself that his friend, in leaving this child, this girl, to his
care, had bequeathed to him the best gift that one mortal can devise
to another: a dear, trustful, innocent daughter--or no, a younger
sister--as pure, as engaging, and as lovable as only the child of such
parents could be.

While he stood telling her of what had happened at the governor's house,
he noted how deeply, for Paula's and Mary's sake, she took to heart the
widow's death, though Neforis had been nothing to her; and he decided
that he would at once make Pulcheria's mother acquainted with her dead
husband's wishes.

All this did not supplant his old passion for Paula; far from it--that
tortured him still as deeply and hotly as ever. But at the same time he
was conscious of its evil influence; he knew that by cherishing it he
was doing himself harm--nay a real injury since it was not returned.
He knew that within reach of Paula, and condemned to live with her, he
could never recover his peace, but must suffer constant pangs. It was
only away from her, and yet under the same roof with Joanna and her
daughter, that he could ever hope to be a contented and happy man; but
he dared not put this thought into words.

Pulcheria detected that he had something in reserve, and feared lest he
should know of some new impending woe; however, on this head he could
reassure her, telling her that, on the contrary, he had something in
his mind which, so far at least as he was concerned, was a source of
pleasure. Her grieved and anxious spirit could indeed hardly believe
him; and he begged her not to lose all hope in bett