dread from overpowering her, yet calm consideration could not fail to
show her that danger threatened on every hand. The very manner in which
Iras and Alexas whispered together, without heeding her presence, boded
peril, for courtiers show such contempt only to those whom they know are
threatened with the indifference or resentment of the sovereign. Barine,
during her married life with a man devoid of all delicacy of feeling, and
with a disposition as evil as his tongue was ready, had learned to endure
many things which were hard to bear; yet when, after a remark from Iras
evidently concerning her, she heard Alexas laugh, she was compelled to
exert the utmost self-restraint to avoid telling her enemy how utterly
she despised the cowardly cruelty of her conduct. But she succeeded in
keeping silent. Still, the painful constraint she imposed on herself
must find vent in some way, and, as the tortured anguish of her soul
reached its height, large tears rolled down her cheeks.

These, too, were noticed by her enemy and made the target of her wit; but
this time the sarcasm failed to produce its effect upon the Syrian, for,
instead of laughing, he grew grave, and whispered something which seemed
to Barine a reproof or a warning. Iras's reply was merely a contemptuous
shrug of the shoulders.

Barine had noticed long before that her mother, in her fear and
bewilderment, had brought her own cloak instead of her daughter's, and
this circumstance also did not seem to her foe too trivial for a sneer.

But the childish insolence that seemed to have taken possession of one
who usually by no means lacked dignity, was merely the mask beneath which
she concealed her own suffering. A grave motive was the source of the
mirth by which she affected to be moved at the sight of her enemy's
cloak. The grey, ill-fitting garment disfigured Barine, and she desired