“I always wanted to study logic, but I suppose I could not understand it. I am a little ignoramus,” said Ella, with a pretty moue.
“I am sure you could learn logic or anything else,” said Albert, looking very sweetly upon Ella. “If you could not, so much the worse for logic;” and for the rest of the breakfast Albert devoted himself to conversation with Ella. He seemed to be charmed with every insignificant thing she said—laughed at jokes which were certainly totally innocent of any spirit of wit. This did not escape Clara, and after the family rose from the breakfast-table, she followed Mr. Delano to his private library, where her presence was always a delight.
That afternoon Albert returned earlier than usual. Ella’s bright eyes beamed upon him as he opened the hall door with the latch-key. She held out both her hands to him. He pressed them gently, and as he released them, asked where Clara was. He was thinking how gratifying it was to have his coming always anticipated with pleasure. It flattered him that Ella was always so glad to meet him; it was such a contrast to the old times, when he hung upon every word and motion of hers. He remembered her indifference to him then; and comparing it with her present behavior, he could come to but one conclusion; and in that conclusion there lay hidden a sense of triumph.
When he asked for Clara, Ella’s eyes fell with such a pretty gesture of despair, that he regretted his question. Quickly regaining a pretended lost self-possession, she replied, “She is in Mr. Delano’s library. She reads there almost every day, and has for ever so long. I can hardly get a sight of her.”
Albert knew that Clara liked to sit with his father, and that her presence cheered and delighted him; and for this he was glad; but he did not like her to neglect him, her husband, and on this special day too, when he had left the house without bidding her good-bye. Clearly, she was very remiss in not being in the parlor waiting for him, after he had treated her to so much indifference! That is masculine logic. No?
Albert hung up his hat and light overcoat in the hall, and went with Ella into the sitting-room, and begged her to excuse him for lying down on the lounge, as he was tired and had a slight headache.
“I am so sorry! Can I not cure your head?” and sitting down beside him, she laid her hand on his forehead, and passed her fingers through his hair for some minutes. During the process Miss Charlotte entered noiselessly. Ella started violently. “Don’t stop!” he said, aloud. “You do my head good!” Miss Charlotte left the room.
“Why did you start so, Ella? I was surprised. It was bad, too, for Charlotte is the first of prudes.”
“Oh, she will think me awful! I will go now; there is a step on the stairs.”
“Sit still!” he said very positively, but in a low tone. “I hope it is Clara. No, it is not,” he said, after a moment’s listening. “Well, go if you must, and tell Clara that I am here; but I must pay this pretty hand for charming away my headache;” and saying this, he opened it with both hands, and placing its rosy palm upon his lips, he held it there for some seconds with his eyes closed. Ella drew it away gently, and left the room. He lay there still, with his eyes closed, enjoying sensuously the magnetic thrill that Ella’s touch awakened, and wondering if, after all, this were not the woman whom he should have married. It was a dangerous speculation, as his own thought admitted; and then he thought of Clara’s tender trust in him, and reproached himself as if he had been guilty of betraying it. When he opened his eyes Clara stood beside him, her eyes full of gentle concern.