Ever since the arrival of the Moritos, Mr. Henry O. Mather had been a constant attendant upon the Donna. His attentions had not been so publicly marked as to have created scandal; but he had been so assiduous in paying his regards, that he was much more intimate than Mrs. Grundy would have thought strictly proper. He was in the habit of calling very frequently, and he often took the Don and Donna out for a drive. Sometimes the party would consist wholly of ladies, and occasionally the Donna accompanied him alone. In short, he became a sort of intimate friend of the family, welcome at all times, without the necessity of invitation or ceremony.
One day, Madame Sevier went in to see Donna Lucia in the afternoon, and was told by the servant that she would find the Donna in the library. Without permitting the servant to announce her, she passed on toward the room mentioned; but, as she approached the door, hearing voices within, she paused a moment to see who was with Donna Lucia. The room was in a very retired part of the house, and she was able to take a position close to the partly open door without the probability of being noticed by any one. She was thus enabled to overhear a highly interesting conversation between the Donna and Henry O. Mather, who had evidently arrived only a moment or two before her.
"You are not in good spirits to-day, Donna Lucia?" questioned Mather, sympathetically.
"No, Mr. Mather; I have my troubles at times, like other people, but I try not to let others see them."
"Then you do not care for sympathy, Señora," said Mather, with a tender sigh; "I see that you have been in tears, and it grieves me to think that I cannot save you from the painful things which cause you to cry."
"Oh! Mr. Mather, I do appreciate your kindness, I assure you," said the Donna, also sighing deeply; "I am almost tempted to ask your advice, for I feel that you are truly my friend; but I am afraid you will think I have been naughty in having exposed myself to such annoyances."
"No, indeed, my dear Donna," replied the millionaire, quite enraptured at this evident token of her confidence in him; "I know that you are too lovely to be anything but an angel, and I shall be only too happy to give you advice upon any subject that you confide to me."
As the conversation was becoming highly interesting, the tones of the parties being of a really lover-like tenderness, Madame Sevier took a hasty glimpse through the door, and saw that she could watch as well as listen, unperceived. Mather was standing beside the Donna, bending over her and looking into her face, while she had her head half turned away, as if in coy indecision.
"Well, Mr. Mather——"
"Why do you address me always so formally? Can you not call me Henry?" asked Mather, boldly.