CHAPTER X.
Robert Feuardent had not seen his friend Philip as he walked in the garden with the woman they both loved, and yet his mind was full of him that morning. After leaving Margaret, he took his way to Jackson Square, looking up as he passed at the windows of his friend's room to see if there were any sign of his return. All was as usual. The flowers bloomed serenely under the shadow of the eaves, and through the open window he caught the sparkle of the tiny fountain playing in the aviary. Presently the sash was raised, and the flowers were watered by a careful hand. Philip had returned. Instead of seeking out his old friend, as in other days he would have done, Robert turned hastily away and crossed the square. The door of the cathedral stood ajar, and he saw the priest at the altar celebrating the Mass. He entered the sanctuary and murmured the prayer which had not crossed his lips for many months. It was a prayer of words only; and presently he arose and left the church with the burden he had brought with him
