al to your heartlessness."
"Sholto," said Marian, her cheeks beginning to redden: "you should not
speak to me like that."
"I say," he cried fiercely, "that it is a lie!"
"Whats the matter?" said Elinor, coming hastily into the room.
"Sholto has lost his temper," said Marian, firmly, her indignation
getting the better of her fear now that she was no longer alone with
him.
"It is a lie," repeated Douglas, unable to shape a new sentence. Elinor
and Marian looked at one another in perplexity. Then Mr. Lind entered.
"Gently, pray," said he. "You can be heard all through the house.
Marian: what is the matter?"
She did not answer; but Douglas succeeded, after a few efforts, in
speaking intelligibly. "Your daughter," he said, "with the assistance of
her friend Mrs. Leith Fairfax, and a sufficient degree of direct
assurance on her own part, has achieved the triumph of bringing me to
her feet a second time, after I had unfortunately wounded her vanity by
breaking her chains for two years."
"That is utterly false," interrupted Marian, with excitement.
"I say," said Douglas, in a deeper tone and with a more determined
manner, "that she set Mrs. Leith Fairfax on me with a tale of love and
regret for my absence. She herself with her own lips deliberately
invited me to seek your consent to our union. She caused you to write me
the invitation I received from you this morning. She told me that my
return realized a dream that had been haunting her for two years. She
begged me to forgive her the past, and to write her a sonnet, of which
she said she was at least more worthy than Clytemnestra, and of which I
say she is at best less worthy than Cressida." He took a paper from his
pocket as he spoke; and, with a theatrical gesture, tore it into
fragments.
"This is very extraordinary," said Mr. Lind irresolutely. "Is it some
foolish quarrel, or what is the matter? Pray let us have no more
unpleasantness."
"You need fear none from me," said Douglas. "I do not propose to
continue my acquaintance with Miss Lind."
"Mr. Douglas has proposed to marry me; and I have refused him," said
Marian. "He has lost his temper and insulted me. I think you ought to
tell him to go away."
"Gently, Marian, gently. What am I to believe about this?"
"What I have told you," said Douglas, "I confirm _on my honor_, which
you can weigh against the pretences of a twice perjured woman."
"Sholto!"
"I have to speak plainly on my own beha
|