“More!”
“Yes; I let Mary think you would rather stay with me;—that you didn’t care to ride with her——”
“Camelia!” They were in full view of the house, but his hand fell heavily upon her shoulder; and so he stood for a long moment, too much stupefied by the confession to find another word.
But Camelia took a long breath of recovery; sighed with it, and felt the blood come back gratefully to her heart.
“But why?—why?—why?” Perior said at last, in a voice from which anger seemed to have ebbed despairingly away, leaving only an immense and wondering sadness, “Why, Camelia?”
A faint, appealing little sparkle lit her face as she glanced up at him; that weight gone, all the buoyancy of her nature rose, ready to win smiles and rewarding looks of caressing encouragement.
“I wanted to read you the Revue des Deux Mondes.”
He stared at her, baffled and miserable.
“And though I was a viper—it was true, wasn’t it? You would rather stay with me.”
“Yes, no doubt I would,” said Perior with a gloom half dazed.