What could he do but kiss her? But even as he took her in his arms and laid his hand on the shapely head with its golden wealth, a subtle pain thrilled at his heart, and he felt as if he were guilty of some treachery.
They stood for some time almost in silence—she was too wise to disturb his mood—side by side; then he put her arm in his.
"Let us go in," he said. "Shall I tell my mother to-night, Lenore?"
"Why not," she murmured, leaning against him, and with the upturned eyes glowing into his with suppressed passion and devotion. "Why not? Will they not be glad, do you think?"
"Yes," he said, and he remembered how differently Stella had spoken. "After all," he thought with a sigh, "I shall make a great many persons happy and comfortable. Very well," he said, "I will see them."
He stooped to kiss her before they passed into the light, and she did not shrink from his kiss; but put up her lips and met it with one in return.
There were men, and not a few, who would have given some years of their life for such a kiss from the beautiful Lenore, but he, Leycester, took it without a thrill, without an extra heartbeat.
There was not much need to tell them what had happened; the countess knew in a moment by Lenore's face—pale, but with a light of triumph glowing in it—that the hour had come, and that she had won.
In her graceful manner, she went up to the countess, and bent over to kiss her.
"I am going up now, dear," she said, in a whisper. "I am rather tired."