morning's harrowing interview, every feeling, every incident, every
throb of reproach and dread were revealed with such touching and
childlike truth, that even in his suffering, Morales unconsciously
clasped his wife closer and closer to him, as if her very confidence
and truth, rendered her yet dearer than before, and inexpressibly
soothed at the very moment that they pained. Their interview was long,
but fraught with mutual comfort. Morales had believed, when he entered
his closet that day, that a dense cloud was folded round him, sapping
the very elements of life; but though he still felt as if he had
received some heavy physical blow, the darkness had fled from his
spirit, and light dawned anew for both, beneath the heavenly rays of
openness and Truth.

"And Arthur?" Marie said, as that long commune came to a close; and
she looked up with the fearless gaze of integrity in her husband's
face. "Thou wilt forgive him, Ferdinand? he knew not what he said."

"Trust me, beloved one. I pity and forgive him. He shall learn to love
me, despite himself."

Great was the astonishment and terrible the disappointment of Don Luis
Garcia at the visible failure of one portion of his nefarious schemes.
Though seldom in Don Ferdinand's actual presence, he was perfectly
aware that instead of diminishing, Morales' confidence in and love
for his wife had both increased, and that Marie was happier and more
quietly at rest than she had been since her marriage. But though
baffled, Garcia was not foiled. The calm, haughty dignity which,
whenever they did chance to meet, now characterized Don Ferdinand's
manner towards him; the brief, stern reply, if words were actually
needed; or complete silence, betraying as it did tire utter contempt