e, and not a jealous woman. But
when he turned back her white face with his hand and bent over her,
all the woman in me returned. I saw her little hands clutch him
convulsively, she gave a low cry,--and then I slipped from the
window on to the ground.

How long I crouched there I cannot tell; I felt as one must feel
that has been buried for dead and awakes in the grave. There was
mignonette beside me, and a clump of southern wood. It was the sound
of some one bounding down the steps that roused me. Gabriel had left
her. I got up and shook my clothes, walking to and fro on the lawn.
When at length I thought of going home, I remembered that I had left
my things in Constance's room, and that it might seem strange in me
to arrive at the house bareheaded. So I went upstairs. The passage
was not quite dark; I could just see that Constance lay outside her
bedroom door. I stooped and tried to raise her, but she flung
herself to my knees, crying:

"Emilia!--O my God!"

"Hush!" said I; "come into the room. Hush! the servants might hear
you."

So I drew her in and would have laid her on her bed; but again she
fell down and clasped my knees.

"Dear!" she cried; "dear, you loved me so, and this is what I have
done. Oh, Emilia, forgive me!--Emilia, forgive me, oh, forgive me!"

I told her that she was forgiven. I cooled her forehead with water,
and at length laid her upon the bed. She clung to me piteously as I
was leaving.

"Kiss me good night," she murmured.

I had not felt that I could kiss her, but I stooped and touched her
slightly on the brow, at the root of the curls. Then I left her,
feeling all the way the clutch of her little fingers on my arm.

* * * * *

As I slipped up to my room, I had to pass the drawing-room door; it
was ajar, and I caught a glimpse of them all as they sat at the
card-table under the green-shaded lamp.

"Honours divided, Miss Seymour, honours divided," said the vicar;
and as I slowly made my way upstairs I heard the clatter of teacups
and Mrs. Rayner's thin laugh.

I went past the room I had shared with Gabriel, and made my way to
the topmost floor, to the room that was formerly mine. It was in
disorder, and nearly bare. I lighted a candle, but the sight of the
dreariness oppressed me; I therefore blew it out again, and leant
out of the open window.

It was a cool night, and dark, for clouds had hidden the moon; the
chimes rang the quarters; they seeme