Her cheek flushed, and her eye brightened with pleasure,—yes, with _pleasure_. To hear him break the death-like silence that even amidst general conversation reigned in her heart—to hear him speak to her alone, close to her ear, even _harsh_ words, seemed like a renewal of their confidential relations—seemed the more so because they _were_ harsh words, because they expressed a command at last with which she could comply—conveyed a threat which implied a position, a right not yet abandoned; it was more _husband_-like, and she nestled closer under his shoulder, and taking the hand, the very hand that had grasped her arm, she stole it behind her, around her waist, as she whispered, “Dearest Raymond, how could you think that I would willingly betray uneasiness—have I been gloomy? I will be so no longer—you shall see—dear Raymond, smile on me—say _one_ gentle word to me; my heart has been starving—even the bitter bread was welcome—give me a sweet word, Raymond!” “Don’t be ridiculous,” were the sweet words granted to her prayer, as he withdrew his arm, and turned gaily to make a remark about a picture to Rosalia, fascinating the gentle girl’s attention by his brilliant smiles and glances. Hagar observed this, and her evil in ambush, her strong waylaying foe, began to give her trouble; nevertheless she struggled against its manifestation, and strove to assume cheerfulness, feeling that now was not the time to alienate him by offence. Her manner changed—flashing fitful lightnings of forced mirth across the dark gloom of her prevailing mood. Hagar was no actress—_this_ was worse than before! and soon she caught the eyes of Raymond fixed upon her—a dire menace striking out through their softness, and perceiving her failure, she grew alternately more gloomy and excited as the evening advanced—so that every one, even the simple-hearted Rosalia, noticed it, and turning her dove eyes on Raymond to read the explanation on his face, saw there the calmness of his superb brow, and set him down as the blameless and injured party. The family party broke up at an early hour. The ladies left the room first, and Hagar, accompanied by Sophie, attended Rosalia to the chamber appropriated to her use, and after seeing the timid girl in bed, and promising that the housemaid should sleep on a pallet in the room with her, because she was afraid “to stay in the dark alone,” they passed out into the next room, the front room, which was Sophie’s chamber. Hagar setting the candle upon the dressing-table, was about to bid her good night, when Sophie, taking her hand, detained her, looked earnestly, steadily, in her haggard face, and passing her arm around her waist, drew her up in a close but sad embrace, and said, “Hagar, my poor girl, what is the matter; are you ill in body or mind, or both?” “I am well,” said Hagar, withdrawing herself from her arms.