"And yet to-night—this very evening?"
"No—no, it was only disappointment—regret, the—the flurry of his sudden visit—not doubt—oh, not doubt of his love!"
"Has this man—has Leicester ever spoken to you of marriage? Have his professions of love ever taken this form?" persisted the old lady, becoming more and more earnest.
"Of marriage? yes—no—not in words."
"Not in words then?"
"No, I never thought of that before—but what then?"
"Then," said the old lady, impressively—"then he is one shade less a villain than I had feared!"
"Madam!" exclaimed the young girl, all pallid and gasping with anger and affright.
"My child," said the old lady, taking both those small, trembling hands in hers, "William Leicester will never marry you, nor any one."
"How do you know, madam? how can you know? Who are you that tells me this with so much authority?"