The young man set his teeth at this fresh repulse.  He did not know that his mother had told Paula what he had yesterday agreed to, and could not account for the girl’s altered behavior.  All day she had treated him with icy coldness, had scarcely answered his questions with a distant “Yes,” or “No;” and to him, the spoilt favorite of women, this conduct had become more and more intolerable.  Yes, his mother had judged her rightly:  she allowed herself to be swayed in a most extraordinary manner by her moods; and now even he was to feel the insolence of her haughtiness, of which he had as yet seen nothing.  This repellent coldness bordered on rudeness and he had no mind to submit to it for long.  It was with deep vexation that he watched every turn of her hand, every movement of her body, and the varying expression of her face; and the more the image of this proud maiden sank into his heart the more lovely and perfect he thought her, and the greater grew his desire to see her smile once more, to see her again as sweetly womanly as she had been but yesterday.  Now she was like nothing so much as a splendid marble statue, though he knew indeed that it had a soul—­and what a glorious task it would be to free this fair being from herself, as it were, from the foolish tempers that enslaved her, to show her—­by severity if need should be—­what best beseems a woman, a maiden.

He became more and more exclusively absorbed in watching the young girl, as his mother—­who was sitting with Dame Susannah on a couch at some little distance from the players—­observed with growing annoyance, and she tried to divert his attention by questions and small errands, so as to give his evident excitement a fresh direction.

Who could have thought, yesterday morning, that her darling would so soon cause her fresh vexation and anxiety.

He had come home just such a man as she and his father could have wished:  independent and experienced in the ways of the great world.  In the Capital he had, no doubt, enjoyed all that seems pleasant in the eyes of a wealthy youth, but in spite of that he had remained fresh and open-hearted even to the smallest things; and this was what most rejoiced his father.  In him there was no trace of the satiety, the blunted faculty for enjoyment, which fell like a blight on so many men of his age and rank.  He could still play as merrily with little Mary, still take as much pleasure in a rare flower or a fine horse, as before his departure.  At the same time he had gained keen insight into the political situation of the time, into the state of the empire and the court, into administration, and the innovations in church matters; it was a joy to his father to hear him discourse; and he assured his wife that he had learnt a great deal from the boy, that Orion was on the high road to be a great statesman and was already quite capable of taking his father’s place.

When Neforis confessed how large a sum in debts Orion had left in Constantinople the old man put his hand in his purse with a sort of pride, delighted to find that his sole remaining heir knew how to spend the immense wealth which to him was now a burden rather than a pleasure—­to make good use of it, as he himself had done in his day, and display a magnificence of which the lustre was reflected on him and on his name.