Coming upon her in that room alone, an hour later, just as she had dismissed Aunt Dicey with her orders for the day, “Little wife,” he said, bending down to give her the coveted caress, “I owe you an explanation.”

“No, Ned, dear, I don’t ask it of you:  I know it is all right,” she answered, flushing with happiness, and her eyes smiling up into his.

“Still, I think it best to explain,” he said.  “I had finished attending to the little matters I spoke of,—­writing a note, and giving some directions to Uncle Ben,—­and was on my way back to our apartments, when Miss Deane met me on the stairway, and asked if I would go into the library with her, and help her to look up a certain passage in one of Shakspeare’s plays, which she wished to quote in a letter she was writing.  She was anxious to have it perfectly correct, she said, and would be extremely obliged for my assistance in finding it.”

“And you could not in politeness refuse.  I know that, Ned, and please don’t think me jealous.”

“I know, dear, that you try not to be; and it shall be my care to avoid giving you the least occasion.  And I do again earnestly assure you, you need have no fear that the first place in my heart will not always be yours.”

“I don’t fear it,” she said; “and yet,—­O Ned! it is misery to me to have to share your society with that woman, even for a day or two!”

“I don’t know how I can help you out of it,” he said, after a moment’s consideration, “unless by shutting myself up alone,—­to attend to correspondence or something,—­and leaving you to entertain her by yourself.  Shall I do that?”

“Oh, no! unless you much prefer it.  I think it would set me wild to have her whole attention concentrated upon me,” Zoe answered with an uneasy laugh.

So they went together to the parlor, where Miss Deane sat waiting for them, or rather for Edward.

She had the chess-board out, the men placed, and at once challenged him to a renewal of last night’s contest.

He accepted, of course; and they played without intermission till lunch-time, Zoe sitting by, for the most part silent, and wishing Miss Deane miles away from Ion.

This proved a worse day to her than either of the preceding ones.  Miss Deane succeeded several times in rousing her to an exhibition of temper that very much mortified and displeased Edward; and his manner, when they retired that night to their private apartments, was many degrees colder than it had been in the morning.  He considered himself forbearing in refraining from remark to Zoe on her behavior; while she said to herself, she would rather he would scold her, and have done with it, than keep on looking like a thunder-cloud, and not speaking at all.  He was not more disgusted with her conduct than she was herself, and she would own it in a minute if he would but say a kind word to open the way.

But he did not; and they made their preparations for the night and sought their pillows in uncomfortable silence, Zoe wetting hers with tears before she slept.