He straightened himself; removed his shoulders from the wall; calmed his face and glance; by strength of will brought a greeting smile to his lips; and moved toward his guests. The moment the hymn stopped he gave his hand to those present, in very polite welcome, and thanked them with a few, but pleasant phrases. This was the beginning of one of those herculean struggles, the like of which he had fought many times in the past. This, in its farther course, had an orgie of labor, which he continued for a number of weeks, and which roused admiration, or curiosity, in every on-looker.
One day, between his return from the city and the hour of reception, he was standing in the blue drawing-room at the window, thinking: What that peculiar movement was which on returning from the city he noted while walking up the stairway. Porters were bearing out articles of some sort, which he did not examine, but which seemed to him pictures, and other things also. Was Maryan leaving the house? Perhaps. It was impossible to foresee what that self-sufficient and stubborn youth was capable of doing. But whatever happened he would not yield, and he would permit no longer that vain method of life, with its mad excesses, excesses which are costly. But in those recent hours everything, not excepting Maryan, had concerned him considerably less than before. Why was this? He did not answer that question, for he heard a noise of steps, and a whisper:
"Aloysius!"
He looked around. It was Malvina greatly changed. Beneath her hair, dressed with stern simplicity, her forehead was furrowed with a dark, deep wrinkle; the corners of her pale mouth were drooping; on the back of her head a heavy roll of hair, coiled carelessly, dropped to her dress of black material, which was almost like the robe of a religious. She stood in the descending darkness, some steps from him. She had pronounced his name, but was unable to go further. Her white hand, resting on a small table, trembled; her head was inclined, and she raised to him eyes which were dim but had a painfully timid and anxious expression. They looked at each other for a moment, and then he inquired:
"In what can I serve?"
The question was polite and formal. After a moment of hesitation, or of collecting her strength, she began:
"Irene and I are to leave here in a few days. It is impossible for me to do this without speaking to thee, Aloysius. I have waited for a convenient moment, and seeing thee here, I have come."
She was silent again. She breathed quickly, and was excited. Standing toward her in profile, the definite and sharp outline of his face was fixed on the background of the window, beyond which was darkness; he inquired:
"What is the question?"
She answered in a whisper: