ld Paula what he had yesterday agreed to, and could not
account for the girl's altered behavior. All day she had treated him with
icy coldness, had scarcely answered his questions with a distant "Yes,"
or "No;" and to him, the spoilt favorite of women, this conduct had
become more and more intolerable. Yes, his mother had judged her rightly:
she allowed herself to be swayed in a most extraordinary manner by her
moods; and now even he was to feel the insolence of her haughtiness, of
which he had as yet seen nothing. This repellent coldness bordered on
rudeness and he had no mind to submit to it for long. It was with deep
vexation that he watched every turn of her hand, every movement of her
body, and the varying expression of her face; and the more the image of
this proud maiden sank into his heart the more lovely and perfect he
thought her, and the greater grew his desire to see her smile once more,
to see her again as sweetly womanly as she had been but yesterday. Now
she was like nothing so much as a splendid marble statue, though he knew
indeed that it had a soul--and what a glorious task it would be to free
this fair being from herself, as it were, from the foolish tempers that
enslaved her, to show her--by severity if need should be--what best
beseems a woman, a maiden.

He became more and more exclusively absorbed in watching the young girl,
as his mother--who was sitting with Dame Susannah on a couch at some
little distance from the players--observed with growing annoyance, and
she tried to divert his attention by questions and small errands, so as
to give his evident excitement a fresh direction.

Who could have thought, yesterday morning, that her darling would so soon
cause her fresh vexation and anxiety.

He had come home just such a man as she and his father could have wished:
independent and experienced in the ways of the great world. In the
Capital he had, no doubt, enjoyed all that seems pleasant in the eyes of
a wealthy youth, but in spite of that he had remained fresh and
open-hearted even to the smallest things; and this was what most rejoiced
his father. In him there was no trace of the satiety, the blunted faculty
for enjoyment, which fell like a blight on so many men of his age and
rank. He could still play as merrily with little Mary, still take as much
pleasure in a rare flower or a fine horse, as before his departure. At
the same time he had gained keen insight into the political situation of
t