This falsehood fell so smoothly from the woman's lips that Stella, innocent and unsuspicious, actually smiled up into the lying face and whispered gratefully, "I know you will, my dear Madam, and I shall trust you implicitly. I cannot understand what has happened but I throw myself wholly upon your mercy and protection, and I know that I shall be safe in your hands."
Julia Webber's face was turned from the couch as she answered in a strange unnatural voice, "Try and sleep now and I will come in again soon," and as Stella obediently closed her eyes she went hurriedly from the room.
Although far better acquainted with her own remarkable nature than are mortals ordinarily, still Julia Webber could hardly understand her own emotions at this instant. Was it possible that she was considering for a moment a withdrawal of her schemes for revenge? She had promised this girl protection just as she had promised scores before, but the word protection had suddenly assumed a new definition in her mind. Hitherto it had simply signified safety from personal violence, from starvation or physical discomfort. Now it was suddenly assuming a new condition,—safety for chastity and virtue. Had she promised this? No! That was purely a personal matter, and what was more, she only allowed the temptation, she insisted upon nothing. But then, again, her methods admitted of no alternative. Her guests, as she had told the Captain, came "to stay," and time, temptation and constant warfare will win the bravest battle and conquer the most stubborn resistance.
Communing thus, she again returned to Stella's room and, standing silently by the couch, looked earnestly upon the girlish face.
Shouts of coarse laughter and snatches of careless song, together with the chink of glasses, reached her ear at intervals as she stood immovable in the quiet room, and involuntarily, with minute distinctness, the details of other admissions to her household were paraded slowly before her mental vision. She recalled the innocence of those rioting voices when they first fell upon her ear,—in nearly every instance uttering a prayer for their speedy return to home and loved ones, or casting themselves in supplicating despair upon her mercy. Her brain was filled to bursting with questions before unanswered, with possibilities before unconsidered, and moments sped rapidly by while she remained, mute and motionless, by the sleeping girl. Not a quiver of the eyelids betrayed the storm that was raging in her breast, but after a time she turned and walked noiselessly from the room.
She had decided,—and with Julia Webber to decide meant to act.
CHAPTER XII. A SINFUL LOVE.
So closely love and passion blend—