He came in joy, but goes back in sorrow." Irene went up to her chamber, feeling sadder than she had ever felt in her life; yet, mingling, with her sadness and self-reproaches, were complaining thoughts of her lover.

For a little half-playful pettishness was she to be visited with a punishment like this?
If he had really loved her--so she queried--would he have flung himself away after this hasty fashion?
Pride came to her aid in the conflict of feeling, and gave her self-control and endurance.

At tea-time she met her father, and surprised him with her calm, almost cheerful, aspect.

But his glance was too keen not to penetrate the disguise.
After tea, she sat reading--or at least affecting to read--in the portico, until the evening shadows came down, and then she retired to her chamber.
Not many hours of sleep brought forgetfulness of suffering through the night that followed.

Sometimes the unhappy girl heaped mountains of reproaches upon her own head; and sometimes pride and indignation, gaining rule in her heart, would whisper self-justification, and throw the weight of responsibility upon her lover.
Her pale face and troubled eyes revealed too plainly, on the next morning, the conflict through which she had passed.
"Write him a letter of apology or explanation," said Mr.Delancy.
But Irene was not in a state of mind for this.