s. They
may step on it; we must hold back a league. I have learnt it. You will
judge whether he disrespects me. As for him, he is a man; at his worst,
not one of the worst; at his best, better than very many. There, now,
Emma, you have me stripped and burning; there is my full confession.
Except for this--yes, one thing further--that I do rage at the ridicule,
and could choose, but for you, to have given the world cause to revile
me, or think me romantic. Something or somebody to suffer for would
really be agreeable. It is a singular fact, I have not known what this
love is, that they talk about. And behold me marched into
Smithfield!--society's heretic, if you please. I must own I think it
hard.'

Emma chafed her cold hand softly.

'It is hard; I understand it,' she murmured. 'And is your Sunday visit to
us in the list of offences?'

'An item.'

'You gave me a happy day.'

'Then it counts for me in heaven.'

'He set spies on you?'

'So we may presume.'

Emma went through a sphere of tenuious reflections in a flash.

'He will rue it. Perhaps now . . . he may now be regretting his wretched
frenzy. And Tony could pardon; she has the power of pardoning in her
heart.'

'Oh! certainly, dear. But tell me why it is you speak to-night rather
unlike the sedate, philosophical Emma; in a tone-well, tolerably
sentimental?'

'I am unaware of it,' said Emma, who could have retorted with a like
reproach. 'I am anxious, I will not say at present for your happiness,
for your peace; and I have a hope that possibly a timely word from some
friend--Lukin or another--might induce him to consider.'

'To pardon me, do you mean?' cried Diana, flushing sternly.

'Not pardon. Suppose a case of faults on both sides.'

'You address a faulty person, my dear. But do you know that you are
hinting at a reconcilement?'

'Might it not be?'

'Open your eyes to what it involves. I trust I can pardon. Let him go his
ways, do his darkest, or repent. But return to the roof of the "basest of
men," who was guilty of "the unpardonable cowardice"? You expect me to be
superhuman. When I consent to that, I shall be out of my woman's skin,
which he has branded. Go back to him!' She was taken with a shudder of
head and limbs. 'No; I really have the power of pardoning, and I am bound
to; for among my debts to him, this present exemption, that is like
liberty dragging a chain, or, say, an escaped felon wearing his manacles,
should count. I am sen