For one moment Antonina looked incredulously on the ruins of the beloved
companion, which was the centre of all her happiest expectations for
future days. Then, as she began to estimate the reality of her
deprivation, her eyes lost all their heaven-born brightness, and filled
to overflowing with the tears of earth.
'To your chamber!' thundered Numerian, as she knelt, sobbing
convulsively, over those hapless fragments. 'To your chamber! Tomorrow
shall bring this mystery of iniquity to light!'
She rose humbly to obey him, for indignation had no part in the emotions
that shook her gentle and affectionate nature. As she moved towards the
room that no lute was henceforth to occupy, as she thought on the morrow
that no lute was henceforth to enliven, her grief almost overpowered
her. She turned back and looked imploringly at her father, as if
entreating permission to pick up even the smallest of the fragments at
his feet.
'To your chamber!' he reiterated sternly. 'Am I to be disobeyed to my
face?'
Without any repetition of her silent remonstrance, she instantly
retired.
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