While Donna Felicidade was putting on her wraps, the three men went downstairs together. Half-way down Julião stood still, and folding his arms, said,—
“Here I am, between the representatives of the two great movements of our time in Portugal,—Literature,” bowing to Ernesto, “and Constitutionalism,” paying the same tribute of respect to the counsellor.
They both smiled with pleasure at the compliment, saying together,—
“And our friend Zuzarte?”
“I?” he said. And lowering his voice he added. “A few days ago I was a terrible revolutionist; now—”
“Well?”
“I am a friend of order,” he exclaimed gayly.
And they went down the stairs, satisfied with themselves and with their country, to take seats in the carriage of the successful author.
CHAPTER XXIV.
EXPIATION.
ON the following morning Jorge went for the first time in some days to the Department, but he did not remain long. In the street the presence of strangers and of acquaintances was alike irritating to him; he felt as if every one was acquainted with his shame; in the most innocent glance he thought he discovered some secret intention, and in the most friendly hand-clasp a token of sympathy. He returned home in a more morose mood and more weary of life than ever; on entering the hall he heard Luiza singing the Mandolinata, as in other times. She was dressing.