o is screaming
black in the face. Yours affectionately,

"AMELIA FINCH."

All the rages I had ever been in before in my life were as nothing
compared with the rage that devoured me when I had read that fourth page
of Mrs. Finch's letter. Nugent had got the better of me and my
precautions! Nugent had robbed his brother of Lucilla, in the vilest
manner, with perfect impunity! I cast all feminine restraints to the
winds. I sat down with my legs anyhow, like a man. I rammed my hands into
the pockets of my dressing-gown. Did I cry? A word in your ear--and let
it go no farther. I swore.

How long the fit lasted, I don't know. I only remember that I was
disturbed by a knock at my door.

I flung open the door in a fury--and confronted Oscar on the threshold.

There was a look in his face that instantly quieted me. There was a tone
in his voice that brought the tears suddenly into my eyes.

"I must leave for England in two hours," he said. "Will you forgive me,
Madame Pratolungo, before I go?"

Only those words! And yet--if you had seen him, if you had heard him, as
he spoke them--you would have been ready as I was--not only to forgive
him--but to go to the ends of the earth with him; and you would have told
him so, as I did.

In two hours more, we were in the train, on our way to England.

CHAPTER THE FORTY-SEVENTH

On the Way to the End. First Stage

You will perhaps expect me to give some account of how Oscar bore the
discovery of his brother's conduct.

I find it by no means easy to do this. Oscar baffled me.

The first words of any importance which he addressed to me were spoken on
our way to the station. Rousing himself from his own thoughts, he said
very earnestly----

"I want to know what conclusion you have drawn from Mrs. Finch's letter."

Naturally enough, under the circumstances, I tried to avoid answering
him. He was not to be put off in that way.

"You will do me a favor," he went on, "if you will reply to my question.
The letter has bred in me such a vile suspicion of my dear good brother,
who never deceived me in his life, that I would rather believe I am out
of my mind than believe in my own interpretation of it. Do _you_ infer
from what Mrs. Finch writes, that Nugent has presented himself to Lucilla
under my name? Do _you_ believe that he has persuaded her to leave her
friends, under the impression that she has yielded to My entreaties, and
trusted herself to My care?"

I answered