Laurel was fortunate enough to get back to her hotel before Mr. Le Roy
returned from his engagement with the friend whom he had unexpectedly
encountered in London. She removed her street dress immediately, and he
never suspected the momentous visit she had made that morning to Cyril
Wentworth's wife. She was gay and loving, as usual, and he dreamed not
what bitter tears had dimmed her eyes that morning in her fear that he
would find her out in her sin.
But that night she said to him, with pretty impatience:
"When are we going to leave London, St. Leon? I am very tired of the
rain and the cold."
"I thought you had not done sight-seeing yet," he said, a little
surprised at her capriciousness. "There are many places of interest
which you have not visited yet."
"I am tired of it all," she declared. "One wearies of the rain and the
smoke and the fog. I should like to go to Italy, where the sun shines
all day, and the air is balmy and warm. Will you take me, St. Leon?"
"We will go to-morrow, if you wish," he replied. "There is nothing to
detain us in London."
"To-morrow it shall be!" cried Laurel.
He humored her caprice and took her to Italy. She did not breathe
freely until she was out of London. She was horribly afraid of meeting
the Wentworths again.
They hired a charming little villa in Southern Italy, and lived there
several months, leading a beautiful, idyllic life that charmed Laurel.
She called the pretty place Eden, in loving memory of her home.
Letters came often from Mrs. Le Roy, occasionally from the Gordons.
Mrs. Gordon was not fond of letter-writing, and though she loved her
daughter dearly, she wrote to her but seldom. These letters Laurel
always posted to Beatrix Wentworth in London with her own hands. She
felt sure that Beatrix would understand and be glad to receive them.
By dint of earnest application she had acquired a very fair imitation
of Mrs. Wentworth's writing. But her conscience always reproached her
when she answered those fond, parental letters. She always felt the
burden of her guilt most deeply then. So her letters were brief and
infrequent. But the Gordons thought nothing of it. Beatrix had never
been a diffuse writer, and they supposed she was all absorbed in her
happiness now. Laurel never expressed the least desire to return to
America. Mr. Le Roy was rather amused at her persistent preference for
the Old World.
One thing pleased Mr. Le Roy very much while they remained in Italy.
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.