She would see Lady Bellair
as soon as Lady Lossie was in bed, and explain the thing to her.
The next morning therefore they drove to Chelsea in the carriage.
When the door opened, Florimel walked straight up to the study.
There she saw no one, and her heart, which had been fluttering
strangely, sank, and was painfully still, while her gaze went
wandering about the room. It fell upon the pictured temple of Isis:
a thick dark veil had fallen and shrouded the whole figure of the
goddess, leaving only the outline; and the form of the worshipping
youth had vanished utterly: where he had stood, the tesselated
pavement, with the serpent of life twining through it, and the
sculptured walls of the temple, shone out clear and bare, as if
Hyacinth had walked out into the desert to return no more. Again
the tears gushed from the heart of Florimel: she had sinned against
her own fame--had blotted out a fair memorial record that might
have outlasted the knight of stone under the Norman canopy in
Lossie church. Again she sobbed, again she choked down a cry that
had else become a scream.
Arms were around her. Never doubting whose the embrace, she leaned
her head against his bosom, stayed her sobs with the one word "Cruel!"
and slowly opening her tearful eyes, lifted them to the face that
bent over hers.
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