“Yes, I am particularly interested in her, but not in the way you mean, for her heart belongs to another.”
“Ah! I thought from appearances that she belonged, or would some day, belong to you,” returned madam, with a keen look into his handsome face.
“No,” he said, gravely; “I am simply her friend. She has recently met with a great sorrow.”
“I knew it,” madam replied, with a soft glance at Editha, and a slight trembling of her lips. “Has the dear child a mother?”
“No; her mother died some years ago. She has no relatives living excepting her father, and he is not in sympathy with her.”
“Ah! how I would like to comfort her. Come and see me this evening, and tell me more about her. I am strangely attracted toward her.”
Paul Tressalia promised, and then they went back to Editha. Madam monopolized her, while he entertained her brother, and it was not long before the fair girl’s heart was completely won by the beautiful and tender-hearted woman.
Madam Sylvester was remarkable for her tact and great versatility of talents, not the least of which was her charming manner in conversation.
She could be grave or gay, witty or learned, and fascinating in any role.
Paul Tressalia regarded her in surprise while she talked with Editha, drawing her from one subject to another, until she made her forget that there was such a person in the world as poor, heart-broken Editha Dalton.