deep sense of humiliating failure, and of having lost something of the
high esteem and admiration in which her almost idolized husband had been
wont to hold her.

Feeling that, more or less of change in her manner toward him was
inevitable; less sure than formerly of his entire approval and ardent
affection, a certain timidity and hesitation crept into her manner of
approaching him, even when they were quite alone together; she grew sad,
silent, and reserved: and he, thinking her sullen and jealous without
reason, ceased to lavish endearments upon her, and, more than that, half
unconsciously allowed both his looks and tones to express disapprobation
and reproof.

That almost broke Zoe's heart; but she strove to hide her wounds from
him, and especially from her tormentor.

The storm kept Edward in the house: at another time that would have been
a joy to Zoe, but now it only added to her troubles, affording constant
opportunity to the wily foe to carry out her evil designs.

On the evening of the second day from the setting in of the storm, Miss
Deane challenged Edward to a game of chess. He accepted at once, and
with an air of quiet satisfaction brought out the board, and placed the
men.

He was fond of the game; but Zoe had never fancied it, and he had played
but seldom since their marriage.

Miss Deane was a more than ordinarily skilful player, and so was he;
indeed, so well matched were they, that neither found it an easy matter