The foregoing details being unknown to me at the time, my surprise may be imagined, when, shortly after all had returned up-stairs, I saw Reva re-enter the hall, with her beautiful hair arranged after the manner of the zeruan.
I land known she was coming; for my eyes had not rested till they lighted on Anvar, who seemed to be awaiting the entrance of some one through a certain door. He, poor fellow, was probably a prey to a stronger conflict of feeling than even myself. He had hazarded much upon a manœuvre known to be risky. But to me the demeanor of my rival—for as such I suddenly recognized him—seemed the easy confidence of assured success. Devoured with a secret rage, I could not turn any eyes from that direction.
Ialma, who stood beside me, probably felt that it would be both useless and cruel to endeavor to divert the direction of my eyes. She, accordingly, strove good-naturedly to keep me in countenance by talking of a picture that hung near the door in question. When Reva came forth, she was very pale, but, ah! more beautiful than ever. Anvar advanced to meet her, and they left the hall together.
