Paulines Passion and Punishment | Page 5

Pauline!"
"One thing more. I give you my liberty; for a time give me forbearance
in return, and though wed in haste woo me slowly, lest this sore heart
of mine find even your light yoke heavy. Can you promise this, and
wait till time has healed my wound, and taught me to be meek?"
"I swear to obey you in all things; make me what you will, for soul and
body I am wholly yours henceforth."
"Faithful and true! I knew you would not fail me. Now go, Manuel.
Tomorrow do your part resolutely as I shall do mine, and in a week we
will begin the new life together. Ours is a strange betrothal, but it shall
not lack some touch of tenderness from me. Love, good night."
Pauline bent till her bright hair mingled with the dark, kissed the boy
on lips and forehead as a fond sister might have done, then put him
gently from her; and like one in a blessed dream he went away to pace
all night beneath her window, longing for the day.
As the echo of his steps died along the corridor, Pauline's eye fell on
the paper lying where her lover flung it. At this sight all the softness
vanished, the stern woman reappeared, and, crushing it in her hand with
slow significance, she said low to herself, "This is an old, old story, but
it shall have a new ending."

Chapter II
"What jewels will the señora wear tonight?"
"None, Dolores. Manuel has gone for flowers--he likes them best. You
may go."
"But the señora's toilette is not finished; the sandals, the gloves, the
garland yet remain."
"Leave them all; I shall not go down. I am tired of this endless folly.
Give me that book and go."
The pretty Creole obeyed; and careless of Dolores' work, Pauline sank
into the deep chair with a listless mien, turned the pages for a little,
then lost herself in thoughts that seemed to bring no rest.
Silently the young husband entered and, pausing, regarded his wife
with mingled pain and pleasure--pain to see her so spiritless, pleasure
to see her so fair. She seemed unconscious of his presence till the
fragrance of his floral burden betrayed him, and looking up to smile a
welcome she met a glance that changed the sad dreamer into an excited
actor, for it told her that the object of her search was found. Springing
erect, she asked eagerly, "Manuel, is he here?"
"Yes."
"Alone?"
"His wife is with him."
"Is she beautiful?"
"Pretty, petite, and petulant."
"And he?"

"Unchanged: the same imposing figure and treacherous face, the same
restless eye and satanic mouth. Pauline, let me insult him!"
"Not yet. Were they together?"
"Yes. He seemed anxious to leave her, but she called him back
imperiously, and he came like one who dared not disobey."
"Did he see you?"
"The crowd was too dense, and I kept in the shadow."
"The wife's name? Did you learn it?"
"Barbara St. Just."
"Ah! I knew her once and will again. Manuel, am I beautiful tonight?"
"How can you be otherwise to me?"
"That is not enough. I must look my fairest to others, brilliant and
blithe, a happy-hearted bride whose honeymoon is not yet over."
"For his sake, Pauline?"
"For yours. I want him to envy you your youth, your comeliness, your
content; to see the man he once sneered at the husband of the woman
he once loved; to recall impotent regret. I know his nature, and can stir
him to his heart's core with a look, revenge myself with a word, and
read the secrets of his life with a skill he cannot fathom."
"And when you have done all this, shall you be happier, Pauline?"
"Infinitely; our three weeks' search is ended, and the real interest of the
plot begins. I have played the lover for your sake, now play the man of
the world for mine. This is the moment we have waited for. Help me to
make it successful. Come! Crown me with your garland, give me the
bracelets that were your wedding gift--none can be too brilliant for
tonight. Now the gloves and fan. Stay, my sandals--you shall play

Dolores and tie them on."
With an air of smiling coquetry he had never seen before, Pauline
stretched out a truly Spanish foot and offered him its dainty covering.
Won by the animation of her manner, Manuel forgot his misgivings and
played his part with boyish spirit, hovering about his stately wife as no
assiduous maid had ever done; for every flower was fastened with a
word sweeter than itself, the white arms kissed as the ornaments went
on, and when the silken knots were deftly accomplished, the
lighthearted bridegroom performed a little dance of