"No, no! I don't know anything but what is good of her—I don't believe anything! She is good and kind—send for her! You shan't drive her away—she shall come to me now! My dear Elizabeth—I love her! You shall not do this—you are mad, mad! She is the best woman that ever lived! Let me go to her—I will go!"
She was writhing again in hysterical spasms, but Mellen forced her back when she attempted to rise.
"Be still, Elsie—try to understand me! I can't tell you the whole story—but we are parted. Do not plead for her. Do not mention her name."
"But, Grantley, Grantley!"
"No more, I say—not a word."
"She is innocent," moaned the girl; "she is innocent."
"I know what you suffer—think of all that I endure—let that give you strength."
"I tell you she is an angel—she has done no wrong!"
"I had the confession which separates us from her own lips—I tell you I would not have believed any other testimony. Don't struggle so, Elsie—lie still."
The girl fought with him like an insane creature—she had no self control or reason—it was inability to speak which kept her from shrieking out in Elizabeth's defence. She could only gasp for breath, and when words did come, it was that broken cry: