“Between my violent indignation against Lorenzo, and my strong fancy for Gilbert, I went very far astray from God, Stella. A single instant of extraordinary grace enabled me to see this. Everything is clear to me now. I no longer seek happiness: I possess it.”
The moment Stella heard me pronounce Gilbert's name, which we had invariably avoided of late, the pupils of her eyes dilated, and, as I went on, took that intensity of color and expression which all emotion imparted to them. But she merely replied:
“I do not wholly understand you, Ginevra, I confess, but I see you are happy and courageous: that is sufficient.”
After a moment's silence, I resumed:
“And will you allow me to ask you a question in my turn, Stella?”
She blushed without making any reply. I hastened to say that my question only concerned Harry Leslie. At his name, she resumed her usual expression, and a double smile beamed from her eyes and lips.
“Certainly, ask anything you please.”
“Well, he came yesterday with a gloomy air to announce his departure. Am I wrong in thinking you have something to do with it?”
“No,” replied she, smiling, “not if it is true he cannot remain in Naples without marrying me, for I have not otherwise ordered him to go away.”
Desirous of drawing her out on this point, I continued: