“No, no; I understand,” the girl answered, quietly; then suddenly hid her pale face in her hands, while a burning crimson flushed up to her brow at the deceit she must practice on the kind soul who thought she was grieving because of Rolfe’s absence, while instead she was unutterably grateful to him for his chivalrous consideration. Until this moment Viola had been so absorbed in her revenge that she had scarcely given a thought to the man she had married. Yet he, gently and unobtrusively, had considered everything, planned everything, that her treasured vengeance need not go awry, while at the same time she need not pay too dear a price for the victory. Loving her with all the strong passion of manhood, he would not force his love on her sore heart. He would be patient and bide his time, though not concealing the tenderness of his hope. Mrs. Maxwell, full of the thought of comforting her, exclaimed: “Ah, my dear, how soundly you slept! It is wonderful that Rolfe did not wake you while he knelt by you, kissing your face, your hands, and your hair in good-bye. He said: ‘Mother, is she not beautiful--the most beautiful girl in the world? I can not tell you how fondly I love her. Ever since the first day I saw her she has been growing into my heart, taking such deep root there that I shall love her forever!’” She stopped, for Viola’s stony calm had suddenly broken up in a storm of sobs. Mrs. Maxwell thought, tenderly: “Poor dear, how she loves him, and what a grief it is that he had to leave her tonight! Well, well, I must coax her to bed, so that I can go back and reason with dear Mae, for I encouraged her in her love for my son, and now I must help her to throw off its chains!” CHAPTER XXIV. THE LETTER THAT CAME TOO LATE. “Where is the heart that hath not bowed, A slave, eternal Love, to thee? “Look on the cold, the gay, the proud, And is there one among them free?” “Viola is taking a protracted beauty-sleep this morning,” observed Mrs. Herman at breakfast, next day, seeing her brother glance impatiently at his daughter’s empty chair. Judge Van Lew, who was a stickler for punctuality at meals, immediately sent a servant to call Viola, and the meal proceeded in silence. Presently the neat maid Eliza came tripping in excitedly. “Miss Viola’s door has been locked ever since ten o’clock last night, and she is not up yet,” she said. “Go and knock upon the door,” said Mrs. Herman. “Oh, ma’am, I’ve knocked time and again this morning, but she does not answer me. It’s strange for Miss Viola to sleep so late, and--and--I’m almost frightened!” the girl whimpered in alarm. “Go and knock again very loudly, and if she does not respond, I will go myself,” Judge Van Lew said, sternly. He pushed back his plate and began to glance over the morning papers while the placid Mrs. Herman sipped her coffee.