he noted how deeply, for Paula's and Mary's sake, she took to heart the
widow's death, though Neforis had been nothing to her; and he decided
that he would at once make Pulcheria's mother acquainted with her dead
husband's wishes.

All this did not supplant his old passion for Paula; far from it--that
tortured him still as deeply and hotly as ever. But at the same time he
was conscious of its evil influence; he knew that by cherishing it he was
doing himself harm--nay a real injury since it was not returned. He knew
that within reach of Paula, and condemned to live with her, he could
never recover his peace, but must suffer constant pangs. It was only
away from her, and yet under the same roof with Joanna and her daughter,
that he could ever hope to be a contented and happy man; but he dared not
put this thought into words.

Pulcheria detected that he had something in reserve, and feared lest he
should know of some new impending woe; however, on this head he could
reassure her, telling her that, on the contrary, he had something in his
mind which, so far at least as he was concerned, was a source of
pleasure. Her grieved and anxious spirit could indeed hardly believe
him; and he begged her not to lose all hope in better days, asking her
if she had true and entire trust in him.

She warmly replied that he must surely feel that she did; and now, as the
others came into the room, she nodded to her mother, whom she had already
seen quite early, and offering him her hand shook his heartily. This had
been a restful interval; but the sight of Paula, and the news he had to
give her, threw him back into his old depressed and miserable mood.

Little Mary, whose cheeks had recovered their roses and who looked quite