"Very well, thank you, sir. I am so glad you have come home, so

glad." She took his cold hand between both hers, rubbed it

vigorously, and looked up joyfully in his face. She thought he was

paler and more haggard than she had ever seen him, his hair

clustered in disorder about his forehead, his whole aspect was weary

and wretched. He suffered her to keep his hand in her warm, tight

clasp, and asked kindly.

"Are you well, Beulah? Your face is flushed, and you feel feverish."

"Perfectly well. But you are as cold as an Esquimaux hunter. Come to

the fire." She drew his armchair, with its candle-stand and book-

board, close to the hearth, and put his warm velvet slippers before

him. She forgot her wounded pride, forgot that he had left without

even bidding her good by, and only remembered that he had come home

again, that he was sitting there in the study, and she would be

lonely no more. Silently leaning back in the chair, he closed his

eyes with a sigh of relief. She felt as if she would like very much

to smooth off the curling hair that lay thick and damp on his white,

gleaming brow, but dared not. She stood watching him for a moment,

and said considerately.

"Will you have your tea now? Charon and I had our supper long ago."

"No, child, I only want to rest."

Beulah fancied he spoke impatiently. Had she been too officious in

welcoming him to his own home? She bit her lip with proud vexation,

and, taking her geometry, left him. As she reached the door the

doctor called to her.

"Beulah, you need not go away. This is a better fire than the one in

your own room." But she was wounded, and did not choose to stay.

"I can study better in my own room. Good-night, sir."

"Why, child, this is Saturday night. No lessons until Monday."

She was not particularly mollified by the reiteration of the word

"child," and answered coldly: "There are hard lessons for every day we live."

"Well, be good enough to hand me the letters that have arrived

during my absence."

She emptied the letter receiver, and placed several communications

in his hand. He pointed to a chair near the fire, and said quietly: "Sit down, my child; sit down."

Too proud to discover how much she was piqued by his coldness, she

took the seat and commenced studying. But lines and angles swam

confusedly before her, and, shutting the book, she sat looking into

the fire. While her eyes roamed into the deep, glowing crevices of

the coals, a letter was hurled into the fiery mass, and in an

instant blazed and shriveled to ashes. She looked up in surprise,

and started at the expression of her guardian's face. Its Antinous-

like beauty had vanished; the pale lips writhed, displaying the

faultless teeth; the thin nostrils were expanded, and the eyes

burned with fierce anger. The avalanche was upheaved by hidden

volcanic fires, and he exclaimed, with scornful emphasis: "Idiot! blind lunatic! In his dotage!"




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