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ENGLISH juliał÷«Ŕ«ķTired and disappointed, they returned to the library. Then Doctor Remy stood forth with the light of triumph shining in his eyes. He had schemed and sinned to some purpose; his reward was sure.Doctor Remy did not move a muscle of his face, but his eyes sparkled, in spite of himself. Ben laughed, and nodded his head.
"Will you allow me the pleasure of looking into your studio?" asked she, in a voice as perfect as her face; "I have heard so much of its marvels, that I am desirous of seeing them for myself."
Mrs. Bergan went on. "She said she had a story to tell you. And when I hesitatedfearing that it might be some new trouble or excitementyou have had enough such, of late, dearshe smiled, as if she knew what I was thinking, and said,'Have no fear, madam; my story will do her good, not harm!' Shall I let her come up?""Then, I will call for you to-morrow, at three o'clock," said Unwick, "if that suits your convenience."
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"Thus, you see," he concluded, "it is not only a disappointed, discouraged, anxious heart (soon, alas! to become a mourning one) that I commend to your tender sympathies, but a sorely wounded faith. If you cannot heal the latter, do not, I charge you, help to destroy it."
After a moment's consideration, he dismounted, and walked quietly round to the spot where the negroes still kept up their lively dance. One of them, Bruno by name, stood a little apart, a smiling spectator of the merriment that he was too old to join. It was easy to touch him on the shoulder, without attracting the notice of the rest. The negro turned, and instantly recognized Bergan; but his exclamation of surprise was cut short by the young man's significant gesture, and he silently followed him to a spot equi-distant between the cottage and the dancers.
The negro did not quite understand, but made shift to guess what was meant."Proverbs!" interrupted Bergan, starting, and beginning to look interested.
Carice hesitated. "No, Rosa, that will never do; our absence would be quickly discovered. You must stay and keep the door.""I wish you could put that look into my face."At this threat, the hereditary temper, scotched in Bergan's heart, but not yet killed, reared its evil head aloft, and sent its deadly poison burning through all his veins.
Yet it argued much for her power of self-control, that she made no sound, nor shook with any sob. Grief must be content to exercise over her limited, not absolute dominion.Diva smiled faintly. "I thought you would have pleasanter topics," she answered, half-absently, half-sadly.
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