ed, I do not know."

"Berenice! he fled from your presence. There is evidently some
misunderstanding or estrangement between yourself and your husband. I
cannot ask him for an explanation. Hitherto I have forborne to ask you.
But now that a week has passed without any tidings of my son, I have a
right to demand the explanation. Give it to me."

"Mamma, I cannot; for I know no more than yourself," answered Berenice,
in a tone of distress.

"You do not know; but you must suspect. Now what do you suspect to be
the cause of his going?"

"I do not even suspect, mamma."

"What do you conjecture, then?" persisted the lady.

"I cannot conjecture; I am all lost in amazement, mamma; but I feel--I
feel--that it must be some fault in myself," faltered Berenice.

"What fault?"

"Ah, there again I am lost in perplexity; faults I have enough, Heaven
knows; but what particular one is strong enough to estrange my husband I
do not know, I cannot guess."

"Has he never accused you?"

"Never, mamma."

"Nor quarreled with you?"

"Never!"

"Nor complained of you at all?"

"No, mamma! The first intimation that I had of his displeasure was given
me the night of my arrival, when he betrayed some annoyance at my coming
upon him suddenly without having previously written. I gave him what I
supposed to be sufficient reasons for my act--the same reasons that I
afterwards gave you."

"They were perfectly satisfactory. And even if they had not been so, it
was no just cause for his behavior. Did he find fault with any part of
your conduct previous to your arrival?"

"No, mamma; certainly not. I have told you so before."

"And this is true?"

"As true as Heaven, mamma."

"Then it is easy to fix upon the cause of his bad conduct. That girl. It
is a good thing she is dead," hissed the elder lady between her teeth.

She spoke in a tone too low to reach the ears of Berenice, who sat with
her weeping face buried in her handkerchief.

There was silence for a little while between the ladies. Berenice was
the first to break it, by asking:

"Mamma, can you imagine where he is?"

"No, my love! And if I do not feel so anxious about him as you feel, it
is because I know him better than you do. And I know that it is some
unjustifiable caprice that is keeping him from his home. When he comes
to his senses he will return. In the meanwhile, we must not, by any show
of anxiety, give the servants or the neighbors any cause to gossip of
hi