When at length she found herself alone with Edward in their own
apartments, she moved silently about making her preparations for retiring,
seeming to have nothing to say.
He burst into enthusiastic praises of the talents of their guests--the
conversational gift of the one, the musical genius of the other.
Zoe, standing before the mirror, brushing out her soft shining tresses,
made no response.
"Why are you so silent, little woman?" Edward asked presently.
"Because I have nothing to say that you would want to hear."
"Nothing that I would want to hear? why, I am fond of the very sound of
your voice. But what's the matter?" for he had come to her side, and
perceived with surprise and concern that her eyes were full of tears.
"Oh, nothing! except that I'd looked forward to a delightful evening with
my husband, after being parted from him all day, and didn't get it."
"My dear Zoe," he said, "I owe you an apology! I actually forgot all about
those lessons."
"And me, too," she said bitterly. "My musical and conversational gifts
sink into utter insignificance beside those of these newcomers."
"Jealousy is a very mean and wicked passion, Zoe; I don't like to see you
indulging it," he said, turning away from her.
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