“I will present you to her with great pleasure.  She is not here; we must search for her.”

She took his arm, and they looked for Beulah from room to room; finally, Dr. Hartwell informed Cornelia that she had gone home, and, tired and out of humor, the latter excused herself and prepared to follow her friend’s example.  Her father was deep in a game of whist, her mother unwilling to return home so soon, and Eugene and Antoinette—­where were they?  Dr. Hartwell saw her perplexed expression, and asked: 

“Whom are you looking for?”

“Eugene.”

“He is with your cousin on the west gallery.  I will conduct you to them, if you wish it.”

He offered his arm, and noticed the scowl that instantly darkened her face.  Unconsciously her fingers grasped his arm tightly, and she walked on with a lowering brow.  As they approached the end of the gallery Cornelia saw that the two she sought stood earnestly conversing.  Eugene’s arm passed round Antoinette’s waist.  Dr. Hartwell watched his companion closely; the light from the window gleamed over her face and showed it gray and rigid.  Her white lips curled as she muttered: 

“Let us take another turn before I speak to them.”

“Surely you are not surprised?”

“Oh, no!  I am not blind!”

“It was an unlucky chance that threw your cousin in his path,” said the doctor composedly.

“Oh, it is merely another link in the chain of fatality which binds my family to misfortune.  She has all the family traits of the Labords, and you know what they are,” cried Cornelia.

He compressed his lips, and a lightning glance shot out from his eyes; but he stilled the rising tempest, and replied coldly: 

“Why, then, did you not warn him?”

“Warn him!  So I did.  But I might as well grasp at the stars yonder as hope to influence him in this infatuation.”

Once more they approached the happy pair, and, leaning forward, Cornelia said hoarsely: 

“Eugene, my father is engaged; come home with me.”

He looked up, and answered carelessly:  “Oh, you are leaving too early.  Can’t you entertain yourself a little longer?”

“No, sir.”

Her freezing tone startled him, and for the first time he noticed the haggard face, with its expression of angry scorn.  Her eyes were fixed on Antoinette, who only smiled and looked triumphantly defiant.

“Are you ill, Cornelia?  Of course I will take you home if you really desire it.  Doctor, I must consign Miss Dupres to your care till I return.”

Eugene by no means relished the expression of his sister’s countenance.  She bade Dr. Harwell adieu, passed her arm through her brother’s, and they proceeded to their carriage.  The ride was short and silent.  On reaching home, Eugene conducted Cornelia into the house, and was about to return when she said imperiously: 

“A word with you before you go.”