"It was not a casual acquaintance. Shall I name him?"
"If you choose," said Ida, with quickened pulsation.
"Then it was Mr.—look at me!—Mr. Germaine!"
The blood flowed regularly again. Miss Arnold's ruse, if such was intended, failed signally; and Ida shortly had cause to congratulate herself upon the equanimity she had maintained through the interview.
Leila's friendliness continued without abatement; and her predilection for her society was openly manifested. She invited her to walk on Monday afternoon, and was inconsolable for her refusal until Richard Copeland offered himself as a substitute. Alice rode out with Mrs. Read and Josephine; and Ida lay down at dusk upon a sofa, within a recess of the parlor. She soon dropped into a light slumber; and thought that she was dreaming still, when she heard voices, and saw, 'twixt sleeping and waking, two figures, dimly visible in the fire-light.
"You are cruelly unjust, Richard. Why seize upon every pretext to attack and wound one who never had an unkind thought of you?"
"Because I have no respect for you, Lelia," was the cool rejoinder. "Your trifling is disgraceful—inhuman!"
"I never trifled with you."
"For the best of reasons—you never had the chance. You will affirm too, that you did not design to coquet with Hilton or Sheppard."
"Their unhappiness was the fruit of their own blind folly."