It was `` Thaddeus of Warsaw , '' a musty little translation which she had found in the house , and begun for her own amusement . Casimer read a little , seemed interested , and suggested that they read it together , so that he might correct her accent . Amy agreed , and they were in the heart of the sentimental romance , finding it more interesting than most modern readers , for the girl had an improved Thaddeus before her , and the Pole a fairer , kinder Mary Beaufort . Dangerous times for both , but therein lay the charm ; for , though Amy said to herself each night , `` Sick , Catholic , and a foreigner , -- it can never be , '' yet each morning she felt , with increasing force , how blank her day would be without him . And Casimer , honorably restraining every word of love , yet looked volumes , and in spite of the glasses , the girl felt the eloquence of the fine eyes they could not entirely conceal . To-day , as she read , he listened with his head leaning on his hand , and though she never had read worse , he made no correction , but sat so motionless , she fancied at last that he had actually fallen asleep . Thinking to rouse him , she said , in French , -- `` Poor Thaddeus ! do n't you pity him ? -- alone , poor , sick , and afraid to own his love . '' `` No , I hate him , the absurd imbecile , with his fine boots and plumes , and tragedy airs . He was not to be pitied , for he recovered health , he found a fortune , he won his Marie . His sufferings were nothing ; there was no fatal blight on him , and he had time and power to conquer his misfortunes , while I -- '' Casimer spoke with sudden passion , and pausing abruptly , turned his face away , as if to hide some emotion he was too proud to show . Amy 's heart ached , and her eyes filled , but her voice was sweet and steady , as she said , putting by the book , like one weary of it , -- `` Are you suffering to-day ? Can we do anything for you ? Please let us , if we may . '' `` You give me all I can receive ; no one can help my pain yet ; but a time will come when something may be done for me ; then I will speak . '' And , to her great surprise , he rose and left her , without another word . She saw him no more till evening ; then he looked excited , played stormily , and would sing in defiance of danger . The trouble in Amy 's face seemed reflected in Helen 's , though not a word had passed between them . She kept her eye on Casimer , with an intentness that worried Amy , and even when he was at the instrument Helen stood near him , as if fascinated , watching the slender hands chase one another up and down the keys with untiring strength and skill .
Suddenly she XXXXX the room and did not return .
Amy Casimer Catholic French Thaddeus Warsaw evening intentness left plumes