should tell you the truth."

"A great deal better," he said.

"How can I respect one whose whole life will be,--will be--?"

"Will be what?" he demanded with a loud shout.

"Oswald, you are very rough with me."

"What do you say that my life will be?"

Then she again resolved that she would not fear him. "It will be
discreditable," she said.

"It shall not discredit you," he replied. "I will not bring disgrace
on one I have loved so well. Violet, after what you have said, we had
better part." She was still proud, still determined, and they did
part. Though it nearly broke her heart to see him leave her, she bid
him go. She hated herself afterwards for her severity to him; but,
nevertheless, she would not submit to recall the words which she
had spoken. She had thought him to be wrong, and, so thinking, had
conceived it to be her duty and her privilege to tell him what she
thought. But she had no wish to lose him;--no wish not to be his wife
even, though he should be as idle as the wind. She was so constituted
that she had never allowed him or any other man to be master of her
heart,--till she had with a full purpose given her heart away. The
day before she had resolved to give it to one man, she might, I
think, have resolved to give it to another. Love had not conquered
her, but had been taken into her service. Nevertheless, she could
not now rid herself of her servant, when she found that his services
would stand her no longer in good stead. She parted from Lord
Chiltern with an assent, with an assured brow, and with much dignity
in her gait; but as soon as she was alone she was a prey to remorse.
She had declared to the man who was to have been her husband that
his life was discreditable,--and, of course, no man would bear such
language. Had Lord Chiltern borne it, he would not have been worthy
of her love.

She herself told Lady Laura and Lord Brentford what had
occurred,--and had told Lady Baldock also. Lady Baldock had, of
course, triumphed,--and Violet sought her revenge by swearing that
she would regret for ever the loss of so inestimable a gentleman.
"Then why have you given him up, my dear?" demanded Lady Baldock.
"Because I found that he was too good for me," said Violet. It may be
doubtful whether Lady Baldock was not justified, when she declared
that her niece was to her a care so harassing that no aunt known in
history had ever been so troubled before.

Lord Brentford had fussed and fumed, and