“But that’s all the better, dear child—all the better; for the heir to Aunt Roselaer’s property and your cousin Leopold van Zonshoven are one and the same person; and on the condition that you should marry the heir.”
Francis, turning on me brusquely, cried, “It is not true, Leopold? Oh, say it is not true!” she exclaimed, violently agitated.
“Then I should not speak the truth,” I answered. “The only difference for you,” I continued, “is this: you thought you were giving your heart to a ‘poor gentleman,’ and now, like a prince in the fairy tales, he turns out to be a millionaire. Can such a surprise be disagreeable to you?”
“Not a disagreeable surprise to me”—she almost shrieked, with scintillating eyes and flushed cheeks—“to find you have put on a mask to deceive me! Have you not succeeded in inspiring me with esteem for you by your proud and dignified behaviour, and the elevated sentiments you professed? And do you think I can be happy to find that all this was but a comedy? Could a gentleman have treated me so? But you have deceived yourself, Jonker van Zonshoven. I gave my heart to a young man without fortune, whose upright and noble character I admired, and in whom I had more confidence than in myself; but for the intriguer, who, to seize upon my aunt’s fortune and make sure of it, has put on a disguise to win the heart of the woman he was ordered to marry, for this hypocrite, this pretended sage, I have nothing but—my contempt!”
“Be careful, Francis; I know your violent temper often causes you to say that which in cooler moments you regret; but don’t insult in such a manner the man you have just accepted as your husband—a man whom no one ever dared to address in such language, neither will he meekly bear it from any living being.”
“Need I make any respectful apologies, or do I owe any excuses to you, who have deceived me, lied to me, who have introduced yourself here like a spy, and carried on your mean and degrading speculations up to the very moment when you thought it impossible for me to retract my word? Once more, sir, I tell you, you are mistaken in my character. I will never pardon a man who has abused my confidence!”
“I have not abused your confidence, Francis,” I answered, in as calm and gentle a tone as I could; “I have only been studying your character, and trying to gain your affections, before I would venture an avowal of my sentiments—that is all I have done.”
“You have been false, I tell you. How can I any longer believe in your love? You came here to make what is called a good stroke of business, to gain your million. It is true, I loved you such as you were not as you now appear in my eyes. I will not be disposed of in marriage by any person dead or alive; and as for you, I refuse your offer. Do you understand me? I refuse you!”
Upon this she fell back in an armchair, pale as death.
I was myself obliged to lean on the back of a chair, for I felt my legs trembling under me. Rolf, tender-hearted as ever, had withdrawn to a corner of the room with tears in his eyes. The General, with agony depicted on his face, sat in his chair wringing his hands, and seemed unable to move from the spot.