University of Virginia Library

II.

He saluted her; but she looked gravely and yet alarmedly,
and then in a sudden, illy-repressed panic, upon him. Then he
knew he must be wonderfully changed. But his mother spoke
not to him, only to return his good-morning. He saw that she
was deeply offended with him, on many accounts; moreover,
that she was vaguely frightened about him, and finally that notwithstanding
all this, her stung pride conquered all apprehensiveness
in her; and he knew his mother well enough to be very
certain that, though he should unroll a magician's parchment
before her now, she would verbally express no interest, and seek
no explanation from him. Nevertheless, he could not entirely
abstain from testing the power of her reservedness.

“I have been quite an absentee, sister Mary,” said he, with
ill-affected pleasantness.

“Yes, Pierre. How does the coffee suit you this morning?
It is some new coffee.”

“It is very nice; very rich and odorous, sister Mary.”

“I am glad you find it so, Pierre.”

“Why don't you call me brother Pierre?”

“Have I not called you so? Well, then, brother Pierre,—is
that better?”

“Why do you look so indifferently and icily upon me, sister
Mary?”

“Do I look indifferently and icily? Then I will endeavor to
look otherwise. Give me the toast there, Pierre.”

“You are very deeply offended at me, my dear mother.”

“Not in the slightest degree, Pierre. Have you seen Lucy
lately?”

“I have not, my mother.”

“Ah! A bit of salmon, Pierre.”

“You are too proud to show toward me what you are this
moment feeling, my mother.”

Mrs. Glendinning slowly rose to her feet, and her full stature
of womanly beauty and majesty stood imposingly over him.

“Tempt me no more, Pierre. I will ask no secret from thee;
all shall be voluntary between us, as it ever has been, until very
lately, or all shall be nothing between us. Beware of me,
Pierre. There lives not that being in the world of whom thou
hast more reason to beware, so you continue but a little longer
to act thus with me.”

She reseated herself, and spoke no more. Pierre kept silence;
and after snatching a few mouthfuls of he knew not what, silently
quitted the table, and the room, and the mansion.