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ZEHRA glided carefully along through the passages that led to her apartment, and as she went her soul was filled by a variety of emotions.
She did not suffer one pang of conscience for what she had done, for in her pure heart she believed she had only been reaching forth for that happiness which by right belonged to her, and which was denied to her by Ben Hamed. In Charles of Leon she had found one whom she could love--one whom she loved when first she saw him, and the affections of her young heart had gathered about him as gathers the sunlight about the earth from the rising orb of day. They had shot forth with that mysterious power which belongs only to love--a power which may never be surely analyzed, and which admits of no similies.