He endeavoured to appear the same as usual, but in vain; for an expression of reserve and scrutiny was apparent on his features.
Matilda perceived it, and shrunk abashed from his keen gaze.
The meal passed away in silence.
"Excuse me for an hour or two," at last stammered out Matilda—"my steward has accounts to settle;" and she left the apartment.
Verezzi had now no doubt but that the stranger, who had caused Matilda's agitation the day before, was now returned to finish his business.
He moved towards the door to follow her—he stopped.
"What right have I to pry into the secrets of another?" thought Verezzi; "besides, the business which this stranger has with Matilda cannot possibly concern me."
Still was he compelled, by an irresistible fascination, as it were, to unravel what appeared to him so mysterious an affair. He endeavoured to believe it to be as she affirmed; he endeavoured to compose himself; he took a book, but his eyes wandered insensibly.
Thrice he hesitated—thrice he shut the door of the apartment; till at last, a curiosity, unaccountable even to himself, propelled him to seek Matilda.
Mechanically he moved along the passage. He met one of the domestics—he inquired where Matilda was.
"In the grand saloon," was the reply.
With trembling steps he advanced towards it. The folding doors were open. He saw Matilda and the stranger standing at the remote end of the apartment.
The stranger's figure, which was towering and majestic, was rendered more peculiarly striking by the elegantly proportioned form of Matilda, who leant on a marble table near her; and her gestures, as she conversed with him, manifested the most eager impatience, the deepest interest.
