BOOK III.
THE JAPHA MYSTERY.
XXIII.
THE POEM.
“I’ve shot my arrow o’er the house
And hurt my brother.”—Hamlet.
When Miss Belinda first saw Paula, she did not, like her sister, remark upon the elegance of her appearance, the growth of her beauty, or the evidences of increased refinement in the expression of her countenance and the carriage of her form, but with her usual penetration noted simply, the sadness in her eye and the tremulous motion of her lip.
“You had then become fond of your cousin?” queried she with characteristic bluntness.
Paula not understanding the motive of this remark, questioned her with a look.