and she had only
to pour in the oil. This she did noiselessly, as one who has no thought
of anything beyond the discharge of an accustomed duty. Then she lighted
the wicks and stealthily looked up to see whether he had yet observed
her.

The lamp somewhat brightened the obscurity of the room, sending even a
faint glimmer into the farther corners, but he took no notice of it.
Perhaps he may have moved his head a little toward the light, but that
was all. Otherwise there was no apparent change or interruption in his
deep, troubled thought. Then Leta moved the table with the lamp upon it
a few paces toward him, so that the soft light could fall more directly
upon his face. Still no change. Then she softly approached and bent over
him.

What could he be thinking of? Could he be feeling aught but regret that
he had thrown away years of his life upon one who had betrayed him so
grossly at the end? Was he not telling himself how, upon the morrow, he
would put her away, with all ceremony, forever? And might he not be
reflecting that, AEnone once gone, there would be a vacant place to be
filled at his table? Would he not wish that it should be occupied
without delay, if only to show the world how little his misfortune had
affected him? And who more worthy to fill it than the one whose
fascinations over him had made it empty? Was not this, then, the time
for her to attract his notice, before other thoughts and interests could
come between her and him?

Softly she touched him upon the arm; and, like an unchained lion, he
sprang up and stared her in the face. There was a terrible look upon his
features, making her recoil in dismay. Was that the affectionate gaze
with which she had expected to be greeted? Was that the outward
indication of the pleasing resolves with which her eager fancy had
invested his mind?

Never had she been more mistaken than in her conceptions of his
thoughts. In them there was for herself not one kindly impulse; but for
the wife whom he had deemed so erring, there was much that was akin to
regret, if not to returning affection. The violence of his passion had
been so exhausting, that something like a reaction had come. A new
contradiction seemed developing itself in his nature. This man, who a
few minutes before had prejudged her guilty, because he had seen the
lips of a grateful slave pressed against her hand, now, after having
seen her so aroused and indifferent to reputation as to defend that
slave