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But it is always difficult to tell to what an action may lead; and most of all is it hard to foresee the consequences which will follow from the violation of principle. Perhaps the air of secrecy with which Ninitta found it necessary to invest her coming, had an intoxicating effect upon the artist; perhaps it was simply that his persistent egotism moved him to test his power.
"It was pure selfishness," he returned good-humoredly. "I wanted to keep you busy so that I might go my own way. But what about your bas-relief? Who spoiled it? Who is Ninitta, and what has she against you?" "That is what I wanted to tell you." She did not speak again for a moment, seemingly intent upon the exact measurement of the ingredients of her salad.
"Come," was Herman's word, almost a command, when the crowd upon the steamer's deck began definitely to separate into those who were to go and those who remained. "You must go aboard. Ninitta, stand just where you are until I come back. I will be gone only an instant."
Fenton had perceived something of this without at all appreciating the strength of the feeling of the sculptor's wife, and she had at one time tried to interest Ninitta in what might perhaps be called missionary work among the models of Boston, a class of whose calling Edith held views which her husband was not wholly wrong in calling absurdly narrow.
Uncertain what were Helen's feelings towards him and restrained by a sense of loyalty to the bond which united him to Ninitta, he had resolved to bury his love in his own breast, at least until time gave him opportunity of honorably declaring it.
The mother goes about selling fruit, and she happened to speak to this girl that I think is Ninitta in her own language one night. The girl had been wandering about in the cold, not knowing where to go, and I suppose the sound of her own tongue touched her heart. Poor thing; she would not speak a word to me. How strange that I should chance to find her."
"How did he die?" she questioned breathlessly. "Of heart disease." So then the world would not know the truth, if what she feared were truth. "I will go home," she said. "Please tell Ninitta." When she reached her rooms she found a letter, addressed in Dr. Ashton's hand, which the penny-post had left for her after she had gone out in the morning.
She had first convinced herself that it was right that Herman should redeem his old-time pledge to Ninitta, and after that she forced herself to the bitterer task of realizing that when time had obliterated somewhat the clearness of her own image in the sculptor's heart, something of his old affection for the Italian might be rekindled in his generous, warm nature, always tenderly chivalrous towards woman, and sure to prove doubly so to one dependent upon him.
Too honorable to betray her, he had meant to make the model his wife, and was betrothed to her with a solemnity of which he was keenly reminded to-day by the ring which she still wore upon her finger. Circumstances had convinced him, however, that Ninitta was deceiving him, and that she preferred the artist Hoffmeir, his best friend.
She sank back into a chair, regarding him with defiant eyes. "So you have followed me," continued Herman, speaking with painful slowness, so that every word seemed to poor Ninitta to fall upon her like a curse; "so you have played the spy upon me. Ah!" As he looked at her she began to cower. She shrank back in her seat, putting up her hands to shield her face from his gaze.
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