"How did Mr. Julian Gray become acquainted with her?"
This was easily answered. Horace mentioned the consul at
Mannheim, and the letter of introduction. She listened eagerly,
and said her next words in a louder, firmer tone.
"She was quite a stranger, then, to Mr. Julian Gray--before
that?"
"Quite a stranger," Horace replied. "No more questions--not
another word about her, Grace! I forbid the subject. Come, my own
love!" he said, taking her hand and bending over her tenderly,
"rally your spirits! We are young--we love each other--now is our
time to be happy!"
Her hand turned suddenly cold, and trembled in his. Her head sank
with a helpless weariness on her breast. Horace rose in alarm.
"You are cold--you are faint, "he said. "Let me get you a glass
of wine!--let me mend the fire!"
The decanters were still on the luncheon-table. Horace insisted
on her drinking some port-wine. She barely took half the contents
of the wine-glass. Even that little told on her sensitive
organization; it roused her sinking energies of body and mind.
After watching her anxiously, without attracting her notice,
Horace left her again to attend to the fire at the other end of
the room.
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