CHAPTER III.

Orion had dreaded the drive home with his mother, but after complaining to him of Susannah’s conduct in having made a startling display of her vexation in the women’s place behind the screen, she had leaned on him and fallen fast asleep.  Her head was on her son’s shoulder when they reached home, and Orion’s anxiety for the mother he truly loved was enhanced when he found it difficult to rouse her.  He felt her stagger like a drunken creature, and he led her not into the fountain-room but to her bed-chamber, where she only begged to lie down; and hardly had she done so when she was again overcome by sleep.

Orion now made his way to Gamaliel the jeweller, to purchase from him a very large and costly diamond, plainly set, and the Israelite’s brother undertook to deliver it to the fair widow at Constantinople, who was known to him as one of his customers.  Orion, in the jeweller’s sitting-room, wrote a letter to his former mistress, in which he begged her in the most urgent manner to accept the diamond, and in exchange to return to him the emerald by a swift and trustworthy messenger, whom Simeon the goldsmith would provide with everything needful.

After all this he went home hungry and weary, to the late midday meal which he shared, as for many days past, with no one but Eudoxia, Mary’s governess.  The little girl was not yet allowed to leave her room, and of this, for one reason, her instructress was glad, for a dinner alone with the handsome youth brought extreme gratification to her mature heart.  How considerate was the wealthy and noble heir in desiring the slaves to offer every dish to her first, how kind in listening to her stories of her young days and of the illustrious houses in which she had formerly given lessons!  She would have died for him; but, as no opportunity offered for such a sacrifice, at any rate she never omitted to point out to him the most delicate morsels, and to supply his room with fresh flowers.

Besides this, however, she had devoted herself with the most admirable unselfishness to her pupil, since the child had been ill and her grandmother had turned against her, noticing, too, that Orion took a tender and quite fatherly interest in his little niece.  This morning the young man had not had time to enquire for Mary, and Eudoxia’s report that she seemed even more excited than on the day before disturbed him so greatly, that he rose from table, in spite of Eudoxia’s protest, without waiting till the end of the meal, to visit the little invalid.

It was with genuine anxiety that he mounted the stairs.  His heart was heavy over many things, and as he went towards the child’s room he said to himself with a melancholy smile, that he, who had contemned many a distinguished man and many a courted fair one at Constantinople because they had fallen short of his lofty standard, had here no one but this child who would be sure to understand him.  Some minutes elapsed before his knock was answered with the request to ‘come in,’ and he heard a hasty bustle within.  He found Mary lying, as the physician had ordered, on a couch by the window, which was wide open and well-shaded; her couch was surrounded by flowering plants and, on a little table in front of her, were two large nosegays, one fading, the other quite fresh and particularly beautiful.