She moved uneasily, and glanced round, but he was hidden by a bush.  Then she half rose, paused irresolutely, and, as though struggling against something foolish, sat determinedly down again.  When Arthur had done smiling, he came forward a few steps into the open, feeling that his face was all drawn and changed, as indeed it was.  It was the face of a man of fifty.  His eyes were fire, and his heart was ice.

She turned her head, and looked up with a shrinking in her eyes, as though she feared to see something hateful—­a shrinking which turned first to wonder, then to dread, then to a lively joy, and then again to awe.  She rose mechanically, with a great gasp; her lips parted, as though to speak, but no words came.  The dog, too, saw him, and growled, then ran up and sniffed, and leaped upon him with a yelp of joy.  He waved it down, and there was something in the gesture that frightened the beast.  It shrank behind him.  Then he spoke in a clear, hard tone—­not his own voice, she thought.

“Angela, is this true?  Are you married?”

“Oh, no;” and her voice came stealing to his senses like half-forgotten music; “that is, yes, alas!  But is it really you?  Oh, Arthur, my darling, have you come back to me?” and she moved towards him with outstretched arms.

Already they were closing round him, and he could feel her breath upon his cheek, when the charm broke, and he wrenched himself free.

“Get back; do not dare to touch me.  Do you know what you are?  The poor lost girl is not fallen so low as you.  She must get her bread; but, at any rate, I could have given you bread.  What! fresh from your husband’s arms, and ready to throw yourself into mine!  Shame upon you!  Were you not married yesterday?”

“Oh, Arthur, have pity!  You do not understand.  Oh, merciful God——­”

“Have pity!  What need for pity?  Were you not married yesterday?” and he laughed bitterly.  “I come—­I come from far to congratulate the new-made wife.  It is a little odd, though, I thought to marry you myself.  See, here was my wedding present;” and he tore the diamond necklace from his pocket.  “A snake, you see; a good emblem!  Away with it, its use is gone!”

The diamonds went flashing through the sunlight, and fell with a little splash into the lake.

“What! are you not sorry to see so much valuable property wasted?  You have a keen appreciation of property!”

Angela sank down on her knees before him, like a broken lily.  Her looks grew faint and despairing.  The stately head bowed itself to his feet, and all the golden weight of hair broke loose.  But he did not pause or spare her.  He ground his teeth.  No one could have recognized in this maddened, passion-inspired man the pleasant, easy-tempered Arthur of an hour before.  His nature was stirred to its depths, and they were deep.