She had never had a serious
love affair in her life, but now, in her old age, she was passing through
a genuine experience of the tender passion through her sympathetic
identification with Ida.
As she sat in her chamber after Paul had gone, fancying herself in Ida's
place, imagining what she would hear him say, what would be her feelings,
and what she would answer, her cheeks flushed, her breath came quickly,
and there was a dew like that of dreaming girlhood in her faded eyes.
She was still flushing and trembling when there came a soft knock on her
door, and Paul and Ida stood before her.
Ida was blushing deeply, with downcast face, and the long lashes hid her
eyes. She stood slightly bending forward, her long beautifully moulded
arms hanging straight down before her. She looked like a beautiful
captive, and Paul, as he clasped her waist with his arm, and held one of
her hands in his, looked the proudest of conquerors.
"I did not know but I might be dreaming it," he said, "and so I brought
her for you to see. She says she will be my wife"
CHAPTER XIII.
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