“You have taught me the art of taming a woman; is not that enough?” murmured Olivia, in a tone that would have touched any man’s heart with pity, if with no tenderer emotion.
But Helwyze seemed not to hear the reproach, and went on, as if the other topic suited his mood best.
“I call Canaris my Greek slave, sometimes, and he never knows whether to feel flattered or insulted. His father was a Greek adventurer, you know (ended tragically, I suspect), and but for the English mother’s legacy of a trifle of moral sense, Felix would be as satisfactory a young heathen as if brought straight from ancient Athens. It was this peculiar mixture of unscrupulous daring and fitful virtue which attracted me, as much as his unusual beauty and undoubted talent. Money can buy almost any thing, you know; so I bought my handsome Alcibiades, and an excellent bargain I find him.”
“But when you tire of him, what then? You cannot sell him again, nor throw him away, like a book you weary of. Neither can you leave him neglected in the lumber-room, with distasteful statues or bad pictures. Affection, if you have it, will not outlast your admiration, and I have much curiosity to know what will become of your ‘handsome Alcibiades’ then.”
“Then, my cousin, I will give him to you, for I have fancied of late that you rather coveted him. You could not manage him now,—the savage in him is not quite civilized yet,—but wait a little, and I will make a charming plaything for you. I know you will treat him kindly, since it is truly said, Those who have served, best know how to rule.”
The sneer stung her deeply, for there was no humiliation this proud woman had not suffered at the hands of a brutal and unfaithful husband. Pity was as bitter a draught to her as to the man who thus cruelly reminded her of the long bondage which had left an ineffaceable blight upon her life. The wound bled inwardly, but she retaliated, as only such a woman could.
“Love is the one master who can rule and bind without danger or disgrace. I shall remember that, and when you give me Felix he will find me a gentler mistress than I was ten years ago—to you.”
The last words dropped from her lips as softly as if full of tender reminiscence, but they pricked pride, since they could not touch a relentless heart. Helwyze betrayed it by the sombre fire of his eye, the tone in which he answered.
“And I will ask of you the only gift I care to accept,—your new protégée, Gladys. Tell me where you found her; the child interests me much.”
“I know it;” and, stifling a pang of jealous pain, Olivia obeyed with the docility of one in whom will was conquered by a stronger power.