little child at school. Gilbert, enjoy your friend, and leave us to
ourselves until the dance is over."

Pauline obeyed; but as she chatted, skillfully leading the young wife's
conversation to her own affairs, she listened to the two voices behind
her, watched the two figures reflected in the mirror before her, and
felt a secret pride in Manuel's address, for it was evident that the
former positions were renewed.

The timid boy who had feared the sarcastic tongue of his guardian's
guest, and shrunk from his presence to conceal the jealousy that was his
jest, now stood beside his formal rival, serene and self-possessed, by
far the manliest man of the two, for no shame daunted him, no fear
oppressed him, no dishonorable deed left him at the mercy of another's
tongue.

Gilbert Redmond felt this keenly, and cursed the falsehood which had
placed him in such an unenviable position. It was vain to assume the old
superiority that was forfeited; but too much a man of the world to be
long discomforted by any contretemps like this, he rapidly regained his
habitual ease of manner, and avoiding the perilous past clung to the
safer present, hoping, by some unguarded look or word, to fathom the
purpose of his adversary, for such he knew the husband of Pauline must
be at heart. But Manuel schooled his features, curbed his tongue, and
when his hot blood tempted him to point his smooth speech with a taunt,
or offer a silent insult with the eye, he remembered Pauline, looked
down on the graceful head below, and forgot all other passions in that
of love.

"Gilbert, my shawl. The sea air chills me."