parishioner, and received in exchange for his mild and
discreet exhortations, donations for his church, gifts for his poor,
and requests for masses and prayers. But in none of these distractions
did Pilar find the peace she sought, and in her terror of heart she
telegraphed one day to her mother to come at once to Paris and stay
with her for a time. Don Pablo had taken the message to the office, and
talked about it afterward downstairs. Auguste hurried to retail the
news to Wilhelm, who had no difficulty in understanding the motive. In
the first moment he thought he was glad of the approaching arrival of
the Marquise de Henares. For, distasteful as the idea might be that the
mother should become a witness of the daughter's questionable
relations, he hoped that her presence would have a quieting effect on
Pilar, and help to bring her to reason. But, on second thoughts, he was
seized with afresh anxiety. He knew that Pilar's was the stronger
spirit of the two, that she had a great influence over her mother, and
could induce her to adopt any opinion or feelings she might choose.
What if the marquise ranged herself on her daughter's side? Then,
instead of one, he would have two women against him, and his struggle
for freedom, in which he had already succumbed to one of them, would be
utterly hopeless.

The Marquise de Henares did not come. She wrote that she was out of
health, and was beside detained in Madrid by a thousand social duties;
but in the spring or summer she would be very pleased to come and spend
a few weeks with her only child and her grandchildren.

Wilhelm maintained an outward show of calm. He did not renew his
attempt at revolt, made no resistance against the fact that Pilar took
entire possession of his existence, and clung to him like his shadow;
he only grew paler, and quieter, and more despondent than before. But
he pondered day and night upon some way of unraveling the knot, and was
in despair at finding none. Should he cut it? He could not. He lived
over again the scene in the dining room; he pictured to himself how
Pilar would sob, and fling herself on the floor, and clasp his knees,
and tear her hair, and saw himself, after a useless repetition of his
torture, disarmed anew. For one moment he thought of giving a cry for
help, of calling Schrotter to his aid, but he was ashamed of his want
of manliness, and put the idea from him. There was nothing for it but
to resign himself. He did so with a gloo