“Duty again!” exclaimed Mr. Carlisle bitterly. “I wish you had let me die. I want no duty service from you; and you shall be gratified, for I do not thank you for my life on those conditions. You spare no opportunity to let me understand that I am no more to you than all the rest of the world. Be it so.” And he impatiently snatched the Galignani from the table, and settled himself as if to read.
Assunta's temper was always roused by the unjust remarks her guardian sometimes made, and she would probably have answered with a spirit which would have belied the angel had she not happened to glance at the paper, and seen that it was upside down; and then at Mr. Carlisle's pale and troubled features, to which even the crimson facings of his rich dressing-gown hardly lent the faintest glow. The same sentiment of common humanity which had prompted those days of care and nights of watching now checked the reproach she would have uttered. She turned over the leaves of Mrs. Browning, until her eye lighted upon that exquisite valediction, “God be with thee, my beloved.” This she read through to herself; and then, laying the book upon the table, she said with the tone and manner of a subdued child:
“May I finish my letter, please?”
Mr. Carlisle scarcely raised his eyes, as he replied:
“Certainly, Assunta. I have no wish to detain you.”
It was with a very womanly dignity that Assunta left her seat; but, instead of returning to her writing-desk, she went to the piano. For nearly an hour she played, now passages from different sonatas, [pg 237] and then selections from the grander music of the church. Without seeming to notice, she saw that the paper at last fell from her guardian's hand; and understanding, as she did, every change in his expressive face, she knew from the smoothing of the brow and the restful look of the eyes that peace was restored by the charm she wrought. When she was sure that the evil spirit had been quite exorcised by the power of music, she rose from the piano, and rang the bell. When Giovanni appeared, she said:
“I think that Mrs. Grey will not return until quite late, as she has gone to Tivoli; so you may serve dinner here for me as well as for Mr. Carlisle. If any one calls, I do not receive this afternoon.”
“Very well, signorina,” replied Giovanni. “I will bring in the small table from the library.” And he left the room.
“It will be much pleasanter than for each of us to dine separately in solitary state,” said Assunta, going towards her guardian, and speaking as if there had been no cloud between them; “though I know that dining in the drawing-room must, of necessity, be exceptional.”
“It was a very bright thought of yours,” answered Mr. Carlisle, “and a very appetizing one to me, I can assure you. Will you read ‘Lady Geraldine’ now? There will be just time before dinner.”