Meanwhile, Lilith, lying on the narrow sofa in her state-room, gave way to one hearty fit of crying, and then wiped her eyes, and began to try to understand her position and her duty.
She was not jealous of the handsome baroness, either. She remembered all her husband had told her of his first fancy, of how harshly he had come to judge her, and she fully believed that Madame Von Bruyin deceived herself in imagining that Tudor Hereward still continued to love her, or to entertain other feelings than disapprobation and dislike towards her.
Lilith now knew, from her intimate relations with the baroness, that Mr. Hereward had greatly misjudged her; that she was not, and never had been, the heartless coquette he had termed her; but that, in spite of her training, she was a warm-hearted, generous and conscientious woman.
But the question now before Lilith was—whether she should continue with the baroness, and run the risk of meeting Hereward in the court circle of the city to which they were going, or whether she should, on reaching Havre, take the first homeward bound steamer and return to New York and to the safe protection of Aunt Sophie’s humble roof.
And though Lilith thought over this question and prayed over it, yet she had come to no decision when there came a rap, followed by the entrance of Lisette, the lady’s maid, who said:
“Madame has sent me to say that it is time for dinner, and to see if I can assist you, madame.”
“Thank you, no. I will be ready in a few minutes,” replied Lilith, rising from her sofa, and beginning to smooth down her dress and arrange her hair.
She soon completed her very simple toilet and went out into the cabin, where she found the baroness waiting for her.
The lady looked pale and grave, but otherwise as usual. No one could have judged from her manner the dread ordeal through which she was passing.
She looked searchingly into Lilith’s face, and saw there the traces of emotion but recently overcome. She smiled softly, as she drew the girl’s arm within her own and whispered: