Had she been mad? She had wounded and angered him, beyond all hope of
pardon--him, whom in spite of everything, she held more precious than the
whole world! She had lost his respect--lost forever all chance of winning
his love. And she _had_ eagerly cherished the sweet hope that some time
he might forget the old dream, and turn to the new reality. But it was
past!
She went up to her chamber, and locking the door, threw herself, dressed
as she was, on the bed. How long must this continue? How long would he
remain away? His business would not, probably, keep him more than a few
days, and then, surely, he would return. And she would throw herself at
his feet, acknowledge her fault, and plead--yes, beg for his forgiveness.
Anything, only to have peace between them once more!
She could not write to him, for he had not left his address. The next
morning, she went down to the store, but they knew nothing of his
destination, or his probable time of absence. So all she could do was
to return home and wait.
A week passed--ten days--and still he did not return, and no tidings of
him had reached his agonized wife.
PART IV.
Louis Castrani received, one day, an urgent summons to Boston. It was the
very day following that on which he had been an unwilling listener to the
difficulty between Mr.
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