magenta coat lay in a huddle on a chair. At intervals he spoke, in a
thinner, higher voice than customary, petulantly uneasy, or with a
familiar, sardonic inflection. At the latter Ludowika would grow
immensely cheered. She entirely ignored Howat on the occasions when he
was in the room. He saw her mostly bent over leather boxes, into which
disappeared her rich store of silk and gold brocades, shoes of purple
morocco, soft white shifts. Howat watched her without an emotion visible
on his sombre countenance.

Occasionally Mr. Winscombe's tenuous fingers dipped into a snuff box of
black enamel and brilliants, and he lifted his hand languidly. The man's
vitality, his sheer determination, were extraordinary. Even now he was
far from impotence. He had, Howat had learned, completely dominated the
Provincial Councils, forced a mutual compromise and agreement on them.
He spoke of still more complicated affairs awaiting him in England. He
damned the Italian's "white liver," and threatened to leave him in
America. Dr. Watlow had been forced to return to the city.

Through the unaccustomed stir Howat was ceaselessly aware of his
feeling for Ludowika; he thought of it with a sense of shame; but it
easily drowned all other considerations. He continued to speculate about
their future together. Whatever his father might conclude about his
personal arrangements, the elder would see that he was necessary to the
future of the Penny iron. They might live in one of the outlying stone
dwellings at the Forge ... for the present. He was glad that Gilbert
Penny, that he, was rich. Ludowika could continue to dress in rare
fabrics, to step in elaborate pattens over the common earth. That could
not help but influence, assuage, her in the end. The Pennys' position in
the Province, too, was high; the most exclusive assemblies were open to
them. He regarded his satisfaction in these details with something of