can befall us more? No, there is nothing, nothing, I say, but your own
foolish fancy; go to your room--go to sleep--my looks, indeed; pshaw!"

"I came to tell you, dear Richard, that I will do, in all respects, just
as you desire. If you continue to wish it, I will part with poor
mademoiselle; though, indeed, Richard, I shall miss her more than you can
imagine; and all your suspicions have wronged her deeply," said Mrs.
Marston. Her husband darted a sudden flashing glance of suspicious
scrutiny upon her face; but its expression was frank, earnest, noble. He
was disarmed; he hung his head gloomily upon his breast, and was silent
for a time. She came nearer, and laid her hand upon his arm. He looked
darkly into her upturned eyes, and a feeling which had not touched his
heart for many a day--an emotion of pity, transient, indeed, but vivid,
revisited him. He took her hand in his, and said, in gentler terms than
she had heard him use for a long time--

"No, indeed, Gertrude, you have deceived yourself; no misfortune has
happened, and if I am gloomy, the source of all my troubles is within.
Leave me, Gertrude, for the present. As to the other matter, the
departure of Mademoiselle de Barras, we can talk of that tomorrow--now I
cannot; so let us part. Go to your room; good night."

She was withdrawing, and he added, in a subdued tone--"Gertrude, I am
very glad you came--very glad. Pray for me tonight."

He had followed her a few steps toward the door, and now stopped short,
turned about, and walked dejectedly back again--

"I am right glad she came," he muttered, as soon as he was once more
alone. "Wynston is provoking and fiery, too. Were I, in my present mood,