"No; all is _not_ at an end between us. We do not
part for ever. _Now_, even at this moment, I could bring you
on your knees at my feet; I could force you to implore my
pity, my forbearance, ill-fated, unhappy girl, whom I love
with that fierce love, which idolises one hour and hates the
next. No, we do not part for ever; through life I shall be at
your side, either to worship and adore you, to be all in all
to you, in spite of man and laws, and duties and ties; or else
to haunt your path, to spoil your joys, to wring your soul.
Ellen, I must be the blessing or the curse of your life.
_Never_ shall I be indifferent to you. You have refused, in
ignorance, in madness, you have refused to be my wife. You
shall be my victim! Either you shall love me as wildly, as
passionately as I love you, and weep with tears of blood that
you spurned me to-day; or if ever you love another, I will
stand between him and you, and with each throb of love for
him, there will be in your heart a pang of fear, a shudder of
terror, a thought of me. This is our parting--you would have
it so--farewell!"

He rushed back to the sea-shore; I walked on, unable to
collect my thoughts. When I arrived at the inn, I found
everybody at luncheon. There was a great deal of conversation
going on, and discussions as to the time and manner of our
return; I felt bewildered, and scarcely understood the meaning
of what was said.

Mrs. Brandon, in pity for me, I suppose, took Rosa's place in
the pony-chaise; she did not say much to me, but had the
kindness to allow me to lean back, and cry in quiet. She
evidently thought that never had there been a girl so in love,
or so broken-hearted before. She was very good-natured, but
there was a shade of pique in her manner, which probably arose
from my refusal to avail myself of her help for the secret
marriage which had been proposed.

We arrived late at Brandon. I was obliged to go to bed with a
raging head-ache--found that Mrs. Swift, my aunt's maid, had
arrived--took leave of Mrs. Brandon, and of the other women in
the house, in my room that night--did not see Henry again--and
at seven o'clock the following morning was already at some
distance from Brandon, on my way to Elmsley.

CHAPTER VIII.

"Why did he marry Fulvia and not love her?"

SHAKESPEARE.

My journey back to Elmsley was everyway a very different one
from that which I had made from it a month before. The weather
was cold and windy, and