that irrespective, darting majesty of humanity, which can be majestical and menacing in woman as in man.
But her gentler sex returned to Isabel at last; and she sat silent in the casement's niche, looking out upon the soft ground-lightnings of the electric summer night.
VI
Sadly smiling, Pierre broke the pause.
'My sister, thou art so rich, that thou must do me alms; I am very hungry; I have forgotten to eat since breakfast;—and now thou shalt bring me bread and a cup of water, Isabel, ere I go forth from thee. Last night I went rummaging in a pantry, like a bake-house burglar; but to-night thou and I must sup together, Isabel; for as we may henceforth live together, let us begin forthwith to eat in company.'
Isabel looked up at him, with sudden and deep emotion, then all acquiescing sweetness, and silently left the room.
As she returned, Pierre, casting his eyes toward the ceiling, said, 'She is quiet now, the pacing hath entirely ceased.'
'Not the beating, though; her foot hath paused, not her unceasing heart. My brother, she is not quiet now; quiet for her hath gone; so that the pivoted stillness of this night is yet a noisy madness to her.'
'Give me pen or pencil, and some paper, Isabel.'
She laid down her loaf, and plate, and knife, and brought him pen, and ink, and paper.
Pierre took the pen.
'Was this the one, dear Isabel?'
'It is the one, my brother; none other is in this poor cot.'
He gazed at it intensely. Then turning to the table, steadily wrote the following note:—
'For Delly Ulver: with the deep and true regard and sympathy of Pierre Glendinning.
