Mrs. Lee looked at her wonderingly.
"You think it wrong—you condemn me, as I have condemned myself a thousand times," she said, with meek pathos.
The woman returned to her seat, smiling.
"No, no. How can one woman condemn another for a fault so angelic? I only envied you the delicacy that could deem it wrong to give one's whole being up to the first element of a woman's nature—entire love."
Mrs. Lee drew a heavy breath and lay back in her chair, smiling.
"You have seen him," she said, at last. "How grand, how magnanimous he is, never forgetting me, never feeling the solitude of this room irksome, but loving it more and more; giving me hours out of each day till, of late, he almost lives in my apartment and never finds it tiresome!"
A strange smile stole over Mrs. Dennison's lips; but she did not look up, and it passed unnoticed by its object.
As the two ladies sat together, Jessie came into the room. Mrs. Dennison did not move, but, on the contrary, leaned nearer to Mrs. Lee. Jessie paused by the door and seemed about to retire; but Mrs. Lee spoke to her, holding out a hand.
The daughter saw this and came close to her mother's chair, leaning over it; while the widow kept her place, so that every word which passed between the mother and child was subject to her vigilance. Thus the conversation was constrained, and Jessie went away with a sad look, which went to my heart.
Then Mr. Lee came into the chamber, and all was bright as sunshine again. Mrs. Dennison kept her position, and Mr. Lee bent over his wife's chair. It was a beautiful group—I have never seen three more distinguished-looking people in one tableau.