I thought of Cora, and could not answer. Had he in truth ceased to love her? Could villany so deep appear so honest? He mistook my silence and went on.
“Forgive me, Zana, if I read my answer in that bright face. You love me as I love you.”
I made an effort to contradict him, but the words died in my throat, and he went on.
“It is true, Lady Catherine desires me to marry another; but while you love me I never will. True she would cast me off and leave me adrift on the world for seeking you as I have this day; but I love you, Zana; speak but the word, and I will take you by the hand, lead you to her presence, and proclaim you my wife.”
“Not me—not me; there is another whom you must so proclaim.”
He did not heed me, but went on impetuously as at first.
“My mother may disown me; thank God, she cannot forever disinherit; we may have struggles; but what then? we have youth, strength, ability and love to conquer all. Come with me now, and in ten minutes all the laws under heaven cannot separate us.”
“In ten minutes?” I questioned, thinking of poor Cora with painful self-abnegation, for never was a heart tortured like mine; “ah, if ten little minutes can redeem your obligations to her, why wait? make this other your wife to-day.”
“Can you counsel this, Zana? Even you desire me to wed a woman whom I neither love nor respect?”
The blood began to burn in my veins. How dare he speak thus of the poor girl whose sole fault was her fatal affection for himself? These indignant thoughts sprung to my lips, but as I was about to utter them, Chaleco came up. Irving saw him, and addressed me hurriedly once more.