Chapter XLIX. The Blind God.
The Miss Mayhew that crossed the artist's threshold the following
morning might have been taken as a model of graceful self-possession,
but she disguised a maiden with as fluttering a heart and trembling
a soul as ever faced one of the supreme moments of destiny. Her
father, however, proved a faithful and intelligent ally, and his
manner towards Van Berg was a fine blending of courtesy and dignity,
suggesting a man as capable of conferring as of receiving favors.
His host would indeed have been blind and stupid if he had tried
to patronize Mr. Mayhew that morning.
Although unconscious of the fact, Van Berg was for a time subjected
to the closest scrutiny. Love had deep if not dark designs against
him, and the glances he bent on Ida might suggest that he was only
too ready to become a victim. He had welcomed to his study two
conspirators who were committed to their plot by the strongest of
motives, and yet they were such novel conspirators that a word, a
glance, an expression even of "ennui" or indifference would have
so touched their pride that they would have abandoned their wiles
at every cost to themselves.
Pages:
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618