Hamilton had seen her
many times since the day of parting, for she went constantly to the
theatre, and had been invited to the larger receptions until her
reckless Jacobinism had put the final touch to the disapproval of
Federal dames; but he had never seen her in such beauty as she was
to-night. Eleven years had perfected this beauty, taken from it nothing.
He sighed, and the past rose for a moment; but it seemed a century
behind him.
"Will you not sit down?" he asked. "Can I fetch you a glass of wine? I
remember you never liked it, but perhaps, after so long a drive--"
"I do not wish any wine," said Madame Jumel, shortly. She was nonplussed
by this matter-of-fact acceptance of a situation which she had intended
should be intensely dramatic. She was not yet gone, however.
"No one ever could get the best of you, Hamilton," she exclaimed. "I
have come here to-night--how terribly delicate you look," she faltered,
with a sudden pallor. "I have not seen you for so long--"
"My health does not give me the least concern," said Hamilton,
hurriedly, wondering if he could lay his hand on a bottle of
smelling-salts without awaking his wife.
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