“Pretty, petite, and petulant.” “And he?” “Unchanged: the same imposing figure and treacherous face, the same restless eye and satanic mouth. Pauline, let me insult him!” “Not yet. Were they together?” “Yes. He seemed anxious to leave her, but she called him back imperiously, and he came like one who dared not disobey.” “Did he see you?” “The crowd was too dense, and I kept in the shadow.” “The wife's name? Did you learn it?” “Barbara St. Just.” “Ah! I knew her once and will again. Manuel, am I beautiful tonight?” “How can you be otherwise to me?” “That is not enough. I must look my fairest to others, brilliant and blithe, a happy-hearted bride whose honeymoon is not yet over.” “For his sake, Pauline?” “For yours. I want him to envy you your youth, your comeliness, your content; to see the man he once sneered at the husband of the woman he once loved; to recall impotent regret. I know his nature, and can stir him to his heart's core with a look, revenge myself with a word, and read the secrets of his life with a skill he cannot fathom.” “And when you have done all this, shall you be happier, Pauline?” “Infinitely; our three weeks' search is ended, and the real interest of the plot begins. I have played the lover for your sake, now play the man of the world for mine. This is the moment we have waited for. Help me to make it successful. Come! Crown me with your garland, give me the bracelets that were your wedding gift--none can be too brilliant for tonight. Now the gloves and fan. Stay, my sandals--you shall play Dolores and tie them on.” With an air of smiling coquetry he had never seen before, Pauline stretched out a truly Spanish foot and offered him its dainty covering. Won by the animation of her manner, Manuel forgot his misgivings and played his part with boyish spirit, hovering about his stately wife as no assiduous maid had ever done; for every flower was fastened with a word sweeter than itself, the white arms kissed as the ornaments went on, and when the silken knots were deftly accomplished, the lighthearted bridegroom performed a little dance of triumph about his idol, till she arrested him, beckoning as she spoke. “Manuel, I am waiting to assume the last best ornament you have given me, my handsome husband.” Then, as he came to her laughing with frank pleasure at her praise, she added, “You, too, must look your best and bravest now, and remember you must enact the man tonight. Before Gilbert wear your stateliest aspect, your tenderest to me, your courtliest to his wife. You possess dramatic skill. Use it for my sake, and come for your reward when this night's work is done.”