"
She hid her face on his breast, and reminded him of that letter of
her writing which had decided the course of their lives.
"When I thought you might meet the happy woman in my lifetime
I said to you, 'Tell me of it, and I promise to tell her that she
has only to wait.' Time must pass, Ernest, before it can be needful
to perform my promise, but you might let me see her. If you find
her in the gallery to-morrow you might bring her here."
Mrs. Lismore's request met with no refusal. Ernest was only at a
loss to know how to grant it.
"You tell me she is a copyist of pictures," his wife reminded him.
"She will be interested in hearing of the portfolio of drawings
by the great French artists which I bought for you in Paris. Ask
her to come and see them, and to tell you if she can make some copies;
and say, if you like, that I shall be glad to become acquainted
with her."
He felt her breath beating fast on his bosom. In the fear that
she might lose all control over herself, he tried to relieve her
by speaking lightly.
"What an invention yours is!" he said. "If my wife ever tries to
deceive me, I shall be a mere child in her hands."
She rose abruptly from the sofa, kissed him on the forehead, and
said wildly, "I shall be better in bed!" Before he could move or
speak she had left him.
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