Chapter 4

The work of weeks is soon recorded, and when another month was gone
these were the changes it had wrought. The four so strangely bound
together by ties of suffering and sin went on their way, to the world's
eye, blessed with every gracious gift, but below the tranquil surface
rolled that undercurrent whose mysterious tides ebb and flow in human
hearts unfettered by race or rank or time. Gilbert was a good actor,
but, though he curbed his fitful temper, smoothed his mien, and
sweetened his manner, his wife soon felt the vanity of hoping to recover
that which never had been hers. Silently she accepted the fact and,
uttering no complaint, turned to others for the fostering warmth without
which she could not live. Conscious of a hunger like her own, Manuel
could offer her sincerest sympathy, and soon learned to find a troubled
pleasure in the knowledge that she loved him and her husband knew it,
for his life of the emotions was rapidly maturing the boy into the man,
as the fierce ardors of his native skies quicken the growth of wondrous
plants that blossom in a night. Mrs. Redmond, as young in character as
in years, felt the attraction of a nature generous and sweet, and
yielded to it as involuntarily as an unsupported vine yields to the wind
that blows it to the strong arms of a tree, still unconscious that a
warmer sentiment than gratitude made his companionship the sunshine of
her life. Pauline saw this, and sometimes owned within herself that she
had evoked spirits which she could not rule, but her purpose drove her
on, and in it she found a charm more perilously potent than before.
Gilbert watched the three with a smile darker than a frown, yet no
reproach warned his wife of the danger which she did not see; no jealous
demonstration roused Manuel to rebel against the oppression of a
presence so distasteful to him; no rash act or word gave Pauline power
to banish him, though the one desire of his soul became the discovery of
the key to the inscrutable expression of her eyes as they followed the
young pair, whose growing friendship left their mates alone. Slowly her
manner softened toward him, pity seemed to bridge across the gulf that
lay between them, and in rare moments time appeared to have retraced its
steps, leaving the tender woman of a year ago. Nourished by such
unexpected hope, the early passion throve and strengthened until it
became the mastering ambition of his life, and, only pausing to make
assurance doubly sure, he waited the advent of the hour when he could
"put his fortune to the touch and win or lose it all."

"Manuel, are you coming?"

He was lying on the sward at Mrs. Redmond's feet, and, waking from the
reverie that held him, while his companion sang the love lay he