use after she
had entered it--as it seemed to him drawn in by Lucian--his first
feeling, after the shock of surprise, had been one of indignation, he
had started up with the intention of following her. Then he remembered
that he had no possible authority over her, even though she was his
cousin's wife; if he should go over there and confront her, could she
not very well turn and ask him what any of it was to _him_? It would
make a scene which could now benefit no one; for it was too late to
prevent imprudences on her part; and with Lucian he should prefer to
deal alone. Then, in another minute, he felt that he could not in any
case endure seeing her openly discomfited; for of course if he and
Lucian should exchange words in her presence, no matter how few, it
would amount to publicity of a certain sort, publicity which it had not
yet attained. At present Lucian had no idea that he, Winthrop, had
discovered their meeting; of her own accord Margaret would never tell
him, and it would be easier for her through all the future if Lucian
should never know; it was this thought that made him go homeward instead
of crossing the field to Madam Giron's, it drove him away. It was not
until he was safe in his own room that his vision grew clearer, that he
remembered that he need not have been so considerate of Margaret's
feelings, since (what he had not thought of with any distinctness in the
first shock of surprise) had she not deliberately braved him? For she
had seen him sitting there when she passed the first time, he had
clearly perceived that she had seen him. Yet, knowing that he was there,
she had passed him that second time in full view; she had crossed the
field knowing that he could see her plainly, had met Lucian on the
piazza and entered the house with him, without the least attempt at
concealment or disguise. It was true that no one else had seen her. But
he had seen her; and she had known it, and had not cared.

This last reflection gave his mood a sharp turn in the other direction;
he thought--he thought a thousand things. Chief among them came now the
remembrance that he should see her at table, she would be obliged to
appear there, she would be obliged to speak to him. But when in answer
to Telano's summons he went to the dining-room, hardly knowing how he
should bear himself towards her, she was not present; Garda brought word
that she was suffering from headache, and could not appear.

That night Winthrop was aw