that—words spoken without the least consideration or intention. But, right or wrong, he did it, and I answered back with more vehemence than before. I don’t know what I said, but it was enough for him, at any rate. He turned upon me—I think he almost cursed me—not in words, but in the cruel scorn expressed in his face and in his voice. Ah! it hurts me even now. Then he left me without another word, without a sign or sound of farewell—left me standing alone by that river. I never saw him again till we met in your drawing-room that night.”

[13]

[14]

Beatrice paused; Monica had taken her [15]hand in token of sympathy, but she did not speak.

[15]

“Of course, at first I thought he would come back. I never dreamed he would believe I had really led him on, only to reject him with contempt, when once he dared to speak his heart to me. We had quarrelled; and I was very miserable, knowing how foolish I had been; but I never, never believed for a moment that he would take that quarrel as final.

“Two wretched days of suspense followed. Then I heard that he had left Oxford the morning after our interview by the river, and I knew that all was over between us. That is the story of my life, Monica; it does not sound much to tell, but it means a good deal to me. I have never loved anyone else—I do not think I ever shall.”

[16]

[16]

Monica was silent.

“Neither has he.”

Beatrice’s eyes were full of a sort of wistful sadness and tender regret; but she only kissed Monica very quietly, and stole silently from the room.

[17]

[17]

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FOURTH. STORM.

“Ah, Randolph! I am glad you are in. It is going to be such a rough night!”

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