Orion went down stairs scowling and clenching his fists.

His heart ached to bursting.
What had he done, what had befallen him?
That a woman should dare to treat him so!--a woman whom he had deigned to love--the loveliest and noblest of women; but at the same time the haughtiest, most vengeful, and most hateful.
He had once read this maxim: "When a man has committed a base action, if only one other knows of it he carries the death-warrant of his peace in the bosom of his garment." He felt the full weight of this sentence; and the other--the one who knew--was Paula, the woman of all others whom he most wished should look up to him.

But yesterday it had been a vision of heaven on earth to dream of holding her in his arms and calling her his; now he had but one wish: that he could humble and punish her.

Oh, that his hands should be tied, that he should be dependent on her mercy like a condemned criminal! It was inconceivable--intolerable! But she should be taught to know him.

He had passed through life hitherto as white as a swan; if this luckless hour and this woman made him appear as a vulture, it was not his fault, it was hers.