feeling,
which was not sobriety, but which differed from either his former
careless recklessness or maddening ferocity. And in this new phase of
mind, he sat and revolved and re-revolved, in ever-recurring sequence,
the things that had befallen him, and his changed position in the world.

Alone now, for she, AEnone, had left him. Left him for a stripling of a
slave--a mere creature from the public market. What was the loss of gold
and jewels and quarries to this! And how could he ever hold up his head
again, with this heavy shame upon it! For there could be no
doubt;--alas! no. Had he not seen her press a kiss upon the slave's
forehead? Had she not tenderly raised the menial's head upon her knee
with caressing pity? And, throughout all, had she attempted one word of
justification? Yes, alone in the world now, with no one to love or care
for him! For she must be put away from him forever; she must never call
him husband more. That was a certain thing. But yet--and a kindly gleam
came into his face for the moment--even though guilty, she might not be
thoroughly and utterly corrupt. If he could, at least, believe that she
had been sorely tempted--if he could only, for the sake of past
memories, learn to pity her, rather than to hate! And this became now
the tenor of his thoughts. In his deep reflection of a few hours before,
he had tried to believe that she was innocent. Now, circumstances of
suspicion had so overwhelmed her, that he could not think her innocent;
but he could have wished to believe her less guilty, and thereby have
cherished a kindly feeling toward her.

Rising up, and now for the first time seeing Leta, as she still stood
under the archway and watched him, he tottered toward her; and, incited
by this new impulse of generous feeling, he pleaded to her--humbling his
pride, indeed, but in all else, whether in word or action, clothing
himself with the graceful dignity of true and earnest manliness.

'Tell me,' he said, 'whether you know aught about her which can calm my
soul and give me the right to think better of her. You cannot make me
believe that she is innocent--I do not ask it of you. That hope is past
forever. But it may be that you can reveal more than you have yet
mentioned to me. You have watched her, I know. Perhaps, therefore, you
can tell me that she struggled long with herself before she abandoned
me. Even that assurance will help me to think more pityingly of her.
Remember that there was a t