At length he answered her. His tone was calm, cool, and impassive,
like his face; showing not a trace of any change from that tone in
which he always addressed her; and making known to her, as she sat
with her face buried in her hands, that whatever hopes she had
indulged in during his silence, those hopes were altogether vain.

"Lady Chetwynde," he began, "all that you have just said I have
thought over long ago, from beginning to end. It has all been in my
mind for years. In India there were always hours when the day's
duties were over, and the mind would turn to its own private and
secret thoughts. From the very first, you, Lady Chetwynde, were
naturally the subject of those thoughts to a great degree. That
marriage scene was too memorable to be soon forgotten, and the
revelation of your character, which I then had, was the first thing
which showed me the full weight of the obligation which I had so
thoughtlessly accepted. Most bitterly I lamented, on my voyage out,
that I had not contrived some plan to evade so hasty a fulfillment of
my boyish promise, and that I had not satisfied the General in some
way which would not have involved such a scene. But I could not
recall the past, and I felt bound by my father's engagement. As to
yourself, I assure you that in spite of your malice and your insults
I felt most considerately toward you. I pitied you for being, like
myself, the unwilling victim of a father's promise and of a sick
man's whim, and learned to make allowance for every word and action
of yours at that time. Not one of those words or actions had the
smallest effect in imbittering my mind toward you. Not one of those
words which you have just uttered has suggested an idea which I have
not long ago considered, and pondered over in secret, in silence, and
in sorrow. I made a large allowance also for that hate which you must
have felt toward one who came to you as I did, in so odious a
character, to violate, as I did, the sanctities of death by the
mockery of a hideous marriage. All this--all this has been in my
mind, and nothing that you can say is able in any way to bring any
new idea to me. There are other things far deeper and far more
lasting than this, which can not be answered, or excused, or
explained away--the long persistent expressions of unchanging hate."

Lord Chetwynde was silent. Hilda had heard all this without moving or
raising her head. Every word was ruin to her hopes. But she still
hoped