Page:In a winter city, by Ouida.djvu/356

 heed what 'people said'; but if that trouble you—I go myself to Sicily to-morrow."

Then he bowed very low once more, and, with his salutation to the altar, went on his way through the dusky shadows of the little chapel out into the morning sunshine of the street. Her eyes grew blind with tears, and she sank down before a wooden bench upon her knees; yet could not pray there for the bitterness and tumult of her heart.

She found her master in him.

His passionless unpardoning gaze sank into her very soul, and seemed like a ruthless light, that showed her all the wretchedness of pride and self-love and vainest ostentations, which she had harboured there and set up as her gods.

She comprehended that she had wronged him, and that he would not forgive. After all—knowing what she knew, she had had no right to deal with him as she had done. She had allowed him to bask in the sun of a fool's paradise; and then had awakened him rudely, and had sent him adrift. She had been ungenerous: she saw it, and hated her own fault with the