erself glad of a winter of exclusion, and when
I saw how she set herself at work with books and embroidery, I confess I
was astonished at her resignation. Then I saw her look at my son, and
perceived she did not find it so _very_ stupid after all. Slowly she
snarled him in her meshes.

One time my husband had a friendless youth for his secretary, called
Denis Christopher. His name attracted me before his person. Mr.
Fontevrault became so deeply interested in his character and talents,
that he used his extensive influence, and gave Mr. Christopher an
enviable lift over the world's rough places. Fontevrault was like a
grieved child when he left us. I was sorry, but concealed it. One of the
young man's agreeable privileges had been to attend me in public, thus
relieving Mr. Fontevrault. I assure you he was more knightly than his
master, whose stiff protection I never missed while under Launcelot's
tender care. I never fully admitted to myself the power I found in the
hitherto unknown fascination of a _young_ man's society; nor how much
pleasure I took in touching those hidden chords that only respond to a
woman's touch. That he adored me, I saw in his eyes. I liked it well,
and the strange, unwonted feeling that shivered through me, now, when by
chance my hand touched his.

Well--people began to talk, as people will, and Mr. Fontevrault sent him
to Malaga. He came to bid me good-by; 'forever,' he thought; ah me! It
was forever in one sense. Fred was a mere boy then, who heard and saw
everything. I had hard work to get him out of the house that morning. I
wanted Denis's last look all to myself. Before he left me, Christopher
offered me a bracelet of cornelians, cut rarely as seals. Each gem bore
an exquisite device. On one were a few words in Latin. When I was alone,
I pressed the seal on a drop of hot wax, and read his dedication.

All that was years ago; he is here again, and I am free. I sat before
the glass long the day I expected him, threading my brown hair, and
longing to wear his color--blue. But then the widow's cap suited me
divinely, and the folds of crape set off my peculiar tints as nothing
else can. I came before him; he started forward to seize both hands, and
gaze in my face, to find no change. Then he pressed his lips to my warm
white fingers. A new boldness became his, a new timidity mine.

Fresh from lessons of my own, I could read a change in Leonora, and
perceive mischief in the air. Her extreme quie