His wife developed a sudden taste for music. She regretted that she had never learned the piano. Masters were procured for her at her own desire, and for one who had professed not to care for music, her progress was exceedingly rapid. When summer came they wearied of Italy, and went to Switzerland. Ah, those happy days abroad--that long, sweet honeymoon! It was so heavenly sweet, it was no wonder that Laurel could not repent of the fraud by which she had won her splendid husband. Life was a dream of Elysium. "Love took up the glass of time, and turned it in his glowing hands, Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands." She was beginning to feel almost secure in her happiness, when one evening the shadow fell, as it always falls, unexpectedly, on her life. She had come down dressed for an opera to which her husband had promised to take her, and she was looking her loveliest. Her robe of white silk and pink brocade was exquisitely becoming, and she wore great flashing diamonds on her round white throat and arms. She had never looked lovelier, but St. Leon did not notice her radiant beauty. There was a shadow on his dark, handsome face. He came and put his arms around the beautiful figure, crushing it against his breast, reckless how he rumpled her dainty laces. "Beatrix, my darling, I have bad news," he said, hoarsely. She started, and uttered a cry. Her lips grew livid, she seemed to shrink in the fond arms that held her. "Do not be frightened, my love," he said. "We will hope for the best." "What is it?" she gasped through her dry, parched lips. "I have received a cablegram from America. My mother is very ill. We must return home immediately," he said, in a voice shaken by anxiety and emotion. CHAPTER XXXII. He had expected that Beatrix would be startled and distressed, but he was not prepared for the burst of emotion with which she received his news. "Home! home!" she burst out, in a voice that was like a wail of despair, then suddenly flinging her arms about his neck, she broke into tempestuous sobbing as if the very depths of her heart were stirred by throes of keenest anguish. He was touched and startled by this display of affectionate grief for his mother. Never had he clasped her so fondly, never kissed her so tenderly as now when he believed that her heart ached and her tears flowed for the sake of the mother whom he loved. "Beatrix, my own sweet love, do not grieve so wildly," he said, caressingly. "She is ill, but it may not be fatal. I broke the news to you too suddenly. I did not realize until this moment what a tender loving heart you have. Cheer up, darling. It may not be as bad as we fear. We will pray for her recovery." She threw back her head and looked in his face with wild dark eyes all swimming in tears. "Oh, St. Leon, what did the cablegram say?" she aspirated, eagerly. "That she is very ill, dear, but that did not necessarily imply a fatal sickness," he answered, soothingly.