“But what, Aveline?” he inquired, coldly.
“I fear you will be angered.”
“No, go on. Be frank with me.”
“I am sure, my lord, you are of too generous and just a nature to blame any woman having some consideration for her husband, whom she has sworn to honour, love, and obey.”
“This is simply ridiculous. You must have been reading some highly-coloured romance, or perchance a melodrama. Let us return to sense and reason. I will not attempt to influence you—will not make use of either threats or entreaties. I will simply lay before you both paths in life; you shall choose as you will. You must either give up your husband, or—give up me!”
“Ah! my lord, you cannot mean it?”
“I do. I am not accustomed to say what I do not mean.”
“I am well assured of that, my lord,” she answered; “but you are not unreasonable, and will have some consideration for your grand-daughter, who has every desire to please you and to act in accordance with your expressed wishes.”
“Pause, my child,” said the earl, “and sit ye down. If you have every desire—which I do not doubt—to listen to my counsel, I shall not have any reason to complain or be dissatisfied; but promises are one thing, and performance another.”
“I hope you do not think so badly of me as to suppose I should forfeit my word.”