"Sir Griffin?—no indeed. He has left town."
"You're sure he's not there? It's no good his coming. If he comes for ever and ever he shall never touch me again;—not alive; he shall never touch me again alive." As she spoke she moved across the room to the fire-place and grasped the poker in her hand.
"Has she been like that all the morning?" whispered Lord George.
"No;—not like. She has been quite quiet. Lucinda!"
"Don't let him come here, then; that's all. What's the use? They can't make me marry him. And I won't marry him. Everybody has known that I hated him,—detested him. Oh, Lord George, it has been very, very cruel."
"Has it been my fault, Lucinda?"
"She wouldn't have done it if you had told her not. But you won't bring him again;—will you?"
"Certainly not. He means to go abroad."
"Ah,—yes; that will be best. Let him go abroad. He knew it all the time,—that I hated him. Why did he want me to be his wife? If he has gone abroad, I will go down-stairs. But I won't go out of the house. Nothing shall make me go out of the house. Are the bridesmaids gone?"
"Long ago," said Mrs. Carbuncle, piteously.