ed portentously. "That coat
is very tight for Milor," Isidor said, still having his eye on the
frogs; but his master heard him not: his thoughts were elsewhere: now
glowing, maddening, upon the contemplation of the enchanting Rebecca:
anon shrinking guiltily before the vision of the jealous Rawdon
Crawley, with his curling, fierce mustachios, and his terrible duelling
pistols loaded and cocked.

Rebecca's appearance struck Amelia with terror, and made her shrink
back. It recalled her to the world and the remembrance of yesterday.
In the overpowering fears about to-morrow she had forgotten
Rebecca--jealousy--everything except that her husband was gone and was
in danger. Until this dauntless worldling came in and broke the spell,
and lifted the latch, we too have forborne to enter into that sad
chamber. How long had that poor girl been on her knees! what hours of
speechless prayer and bitter prostration had she passed there! The
war-chroniclers who write brilliant stories of fight and triumph
scarcely tell us of these. These are too mean parts of the pageant:
and you don't hear widows' cries or mothers' sobs in the midst of the
shouts and jubilation in the great Chorus of Victory. And yet when was
the time that such have not cried out: heart-broken, humble
protestants, unheard in the uproar of the triumph!

After the first movement of terror in Amelia's mind--when Rebecca's
green eyes lighted upon her, and rustling in her fresh silks and
brilliant ornaments, the latter tripped up with extended arms to
embrace her--a feeling of anger succeeded, and from being deadly pale
before, her face flushed up red, and she returned Rebecca's look after
a moment with a steadiness which surprised and somewhat abashed her
rival.

"Dearest Amelia, you are very unwell," the visitor said, putting forth
her hand to take Amelia's. "What is it? I could not rest until I knew
how you were."

Amelia drew back her hand--never since her life began had that gentle
soul refused to believe or to answer any demonstration of good-will or
affection. But she drew back her hand, and trembled all over. "Why
are you here, Rebecca?" she said, still looking at her solemnly with
her large eyes. These glances troubled her visitor.

"She must have seen him give me the letter at the ball," Rebecca
thought. "Don't be agitated, dear Amelia," she said, looking down. "I
came but to see if I could--if you were well."

"Are you well?" said Amelia.