"Say something, Richard! _Do_ something! Don't stand there so quietly! Oh, you should never have married me! I displease you, and you make me worse; and you do not see how 'tis that I cannot live without pleasure, and money! I am despicable? Yes, yes, but what are you? Oh, why did you tell me you cheated _after_ you had wedded me?" Angry sobs escaped her; her handkerchief was in shreds upon the floor. Carstares turned his back to her, that she might not see how she had contrived to hurt him, and the movement drove her to fresh fury. "Don't do that! Don't! Don't! You make me worse by your dreadful silence! Oh, if you really loved me!" "You cannot doubt that!" he cried out, wheeling suddenly round. "You know how I love you! Don't you?" He gripped her by the shoulders and swung her to face him. She trembled and gave a sobbing little laugh. As suddenly as it had come, her anger left her. "Oh, yes, yes! You do love me, Dicky?" She twined her arms about his neck and shrank closer. "God help me, yes!" he groaned, thrusting her away. "And you--you care for no one save yourself!" "No! No!" she cried, pressing up to him again. "Do not say that, Dick. Indeed, I love you, but I cannot live without gaiety--you know I cannot. Oh, I do not doubt but what I am very selfish, but 'tis the way I am fashioned, and I cannot change my nature. And now I have hurt you, and I did not mean to! I did not mean to!" "My dear, I know you did not; but try to be less a child, I beg of you! You are so uncontrolled, so--" "I knew you would say that," she answered in a dead voice. "You do not understand me. You expect me to be good, and patient, and forbearing, and I tell you 'tis not in my nature." "But, Lavinia, you can control your passions," he said gently. "No! I cannot! We Belmanoirs--as God made us, so we are--and He made us spendthrift, and pleasure-loving, and mad!" She walked slowly to the door. "But you do not understand, and you try to make me staid, and thoughtful, and a good mother, when I am dying for _life_, and excitement, and care not that for housewifery!" She opened the door slowly. "And now my head aches, and you look grave and say 'tis my wicked temper, when I want you to be sorry, and to be ready to do anything to comfort me. Why can you not take me to London, when you know how I long to be there, instead of in this gloomy house with nought to do, save mind my child and my needle? I am so tired of it all! So very tired of it all!" She would have left the room then, but he detained her. "Wait, Lavinia! You say you are unhappy?" She released the door handle and fluttered her hands expressively.