rer like yourself,' replied the lady, drawing up stately.

'Look at your Poynings--was HE of your rank? You are the cause of that
young man's wound, madam; and, but that the instrument of your savage
cruelty relented, would have been the author of his murder--yes, of his
murder; for, if a wife is faithless, does not she arm the husband who
punishes the seducer! And I look upon you, Honoria Lyndon, as my wife.'

'Husband? wife, sir!' cried the widow, quite astonished.

'Yes, wife! husband! I am not one of those poor souls with whom
coquettes can play, and who may afterwards throw them aside. You would
forget what passed between us at Spa: Calista would forget Eugenio; but
I will not let you forget me. You thought to trifle with my heart, did
you? When once moved, Honoria, it is moved for ever. I love you--love as
passionately now as I did when my passion was hopeless; and, now that
I can win you, do you think I will forego you? Cruel cruel Calista! you
little know the power of your own charms if you think their effect is so
easily obliterated--you little know the constancy of this pure and noble
heart if you think that, having once loved, it can ever cease to
adore you. No! I swear by your cruelty that I will revenge it; by your
wonderful beauty that I will win it, and be worthy to win it. Lovely,
fascinating, fickle, cruel woman! you shall be mine--I swear it! Your
wealth may be great; but am I not of a generous nature enough to use it
worthily? Your rank is lofty; but not so lofty as my ambition. You threw
yourself away once on a cold and spiritless debauchee: give yourself
now, Honoria, to a MAN; and one who, however lofty your rank may be,
will enhance it and become it!'

As I poured words to this effect out on the astonished widow, I stood
over her, and fascinated her with the glance of my eye; saw her turn red
and pale with fear and wonder; saw that my praise of her charms and the
exposition of my passion were not unwelcome to her, and witnessed with
triumphant composure the mastery I was gaining over her. Terror, be sure
of that, is not a bad ingredient of love. A man who wills fiercely to
win the heart of a weak and vapourish woman MUST succeed, if he have
opportunity enough.

'Terrible man!' said Lady Lyndon, shrinking from me as soon as I had
done speaking (indeed, I was at a loss for words, and thinking of
another speech to make to her)--'terrible man! leave me.'

I saw that I had made an impression on he