But alas for the thoughts and hopes that this afternoon had raised in the observing ones of Le Crépuscule, Lenore and her husband were not seen again to spend a single hour alone together. Gerault remained for the most part with the general company of the Castle, not seeking to escape to solitude with Courtoise, but holding his lady from him at arm’s length. His attitude toward her was uneasy. He did not avoid her, but, were they by chance left alone together for ten minutes, his manner changed till it was like that of a man guilty of some dishonorable thing. Oftentimes, when they were with a number of others, Gerault would be seen to watch Lenore closely, and his eyes would light with momentary pleasure at some one of her unconscious graces. But the light never stayed. Quickly his black brows would darken, the shadows re-cover his face, and he would be more unapproachable than before. In the course of a few days, Lenore began to grow morbidly sensitive over her husband’s attitude; and, out of sheer misery, she began to avoid him persistently. This brought a still more bitter blow to her, for she discovered that he was glad to be avoided. Lenore was desperate; but still she was brave, still she held to herself; and if at times she sought refuge with madame and Alixe, those two kindly and pitying souls met her with outstretched arms of silent sympathy, and never betrayed to her by so much as a glance how much they had observed of Gerault’s incomprehensible neglect. The holiday week passed, and with its end came a spirit of relief that it was over. Next morning the usual occupations were begun, and Lenore went up to the spinning-room with the rest of the women. This work-room was on the second floor, and ran almost the whole length of the south side of the Castle: a long, narrow room, with many windows looking out upon the courtyard, and only a sideways view of the hazy, turquoise sea. Here was every known mechanical contrivance for the making of cloth and tapestry, and their development out of the raw wool. The loom, just now half filled with a warp of pale green, stood at the east end of the room; the fixed combs, the half-dozen spinning-wheels, the tambour-frames for embroidery, and the great tapestry-border frame, were ranged in an orderly line down the remaining length, and each of the maidens had her particular task of the summer in some stage of completion. Since Lenore’s arrival a spinning-wheel had been set up here for her, and she sat down to it at once, while her demoiselles were directed by madame to begin work on the tapestry border, at which four could apply the needle at the same time. As the roomful settled quickly to work, under the general guidance of madame, Lenore began to tread her wheel and draw out thread with a hand practised enough to win the approval even of Eleanore. And as the morning wore along, Lenore found herself unaccountably soothed and comforted by her task and the kindly