She wanted to be gentle, and soft, and loving--to feel that she belonged to him.

And she passionately longed for him to kiss her and clasp her to his heart.
Whether he had consented originally to marry her for her uncle's money or not, was a matter, now, of no further importance.

He had loved her after he had seen her, at all events, and she had thrown it all away.
Nothing but a man's natural jealousy of his possessions remained.
"Oh, why did I not know what I was doing!" she moaned to herself, as she rocked in the chair.

"I must have been very wicked in some former life, to be so tortured in this!" But it was too late now.

She had burnt her ships, and nothing remained to her but her pride.