She caught at the words with the eagerness of desperation. "Oh, St. Leon, why need we go home at all then?" "Beatrix!" He did not know himself how coldly he put her from him, how sharp and rebuking his tone sounded. He was hurt and amazed. It seemed to him that he could not have understood her aright. He looked at the beautiful form drooping before him humbly, and he saw that he had frightened her by his sudden harshness. Her lips were trembling with fear. "Beatrix," he said, "perhaps I have not understood you aright. Did you really express a desire not to go home?" She looked at the dark, handsome face with the touch of sternness upon it and her heart sunk within her. "I thought--I thought"--she faltered, "that--if Mrs. Le Roy were not so very ill, we need not--perhaps--go home just yet. Oh, forgive me, St. Leon. I did not mean to be selfish. I love the Old World so well I cannot bear the thought of going back to America!" For the first time since their happy wedding-day he looked coldly and sternly at his fair young bride. She had almost forgotten how those proud lips could curl, how that mobile face could express the lightning passions of his soul. She saw now what a dreadful mistake she had made. "Oh, Beatrix, how I have deceived myself!" he cried. "Do you know what I thought just now when you burst into tears? I believed that all your grief was for my mother, because you loved her and were sorry for her. I never loved you so well as when I thought that you shared so wholly in my affection for my parent. And yet in the next breath you show me my mistake. Your pleasure, your comfort, ranks higher in your thoughts than my mother's welfare! Oh! child! are you, indeed, so selfish?" The sadness and reproach in his voice tore her guilty heart like a knife. She flew to his arms--she would not be held at a distance. "I am a wretch!" she cried, remorsefully. "Forgive me, St. Leon. I _do_ love Mrs. Le Roy. I _do_ grieve over her illness! It was only my abominable selfishness and thoughtlessness that made me so heartless. I have grown selfish, forgetting every one else and finding all my happiness in you. Forget it, if you can--at least, forgive it. I am ready to go home with you immediately. Nay, I am most anxious to go." But her voice faltered, and she shed such hot tears upon his breast that they seemed to blister her cheeks. It seemed to her that she was declaring her own death-warrant. He could do no less than forgive her. Indeed, her sorrow and repentance were so great that he felt that he had been too harsh and stern with her. He remembered that she was only a child, and she had been so pleased with her travels, it was no wonder that she had been disappointed when the end came upon her so suddenly. "Besides, I could not in reason expect her to be as fond of my mother as I am," he said to himself, apologetically, and to ease the smart of his disappointment.