"I think they are going to supper. Will you permit me to take you in, Miss Merlin?" said Lord Vincent, offering his arm.
"If you please," said Claudia, rising to take it.
"Shall I have the honor, dear Bee?" inquired Ishmael.
Beatrice answered by putting her hand within Ishmael's arm. And they followed the company to the supper room—scene of splendor, magnificence, and luxury that baffles all description, except that of the reporter of the "Republican Court Journal," who, in speaking of the supper, said:
"In all his former efforts, it was granted by everyone, that Devizac surpassed all others; but in this supper at Judge Merlin's, Devizac surpassed himself!"
After supper Ishmael danced the last quadrille with Miss Tourneysee; and when that was over, the time-honored old contra-dance of Sir Roger de Coverly was called, in which nearly all the company took part—Ishmael dancing with a daughter of a distinguished senator, and a certain Captain Todd dancing with Bee.
When the last dance was over, the hour being two o'clock in the morning, the party separated, well pleased with their evening's entertainment. Ishmael went up to his den, and retired to bed: but ah! not to repose. The unusual excitement of the evening, the light, the splendor, the luxury, the guests, and among them all the figures of Claudia and the viscount, haunting memory and stimulating imagination, forbade repose. Ever, in the midst of all his busy, useful, aspiring life he was conscious, deep in his heart, of a gnawing anguish, whose name was Claudia Merlin. To-night this deep-seated anguish tortured him like the vulture of Prometheus. One vivid picture was always before his mind's eye—the sofa, with the beautiful figure of Claudia reclining upon it, and the stately form of the viscount, leaning with deferential admiration over her. The viscount's admiration of the beauty was patent; he did not attempt to conceal it. Claudia's pride and pleasure in her conquest were also undeniable; she took no pains to veil them.
And for this cause Ishmael could not sleep, but lay battling all night with his agony. He arose the next morning pale and ill, from the restless bed and wretched night, but fully resolved to struggle with and conquer his hopeless love.
"I must not, I will not, let this passion enervate me! I have work to do in this world, and I must do it with all my strength!" he said to himself, as he went into the library.
Ishmael had gradually passed upward from his humble position of amanuensis to be the legal assistant and almost partner of the judge in his office business. In fact, Ishmael was his partner in everything except a share in the profits; he received none of them; he still worked for his small salary as amanuensis; not that the judge willfully availed himself of the young man's valuable assistance without giving him due remuneration, but the change in Ishmael's relations to his employer had come on so naturally and gradually, that at no one time had thought of raising the young man's salary to the same elevation of his position and services occurred to Judge Merlin.