Caroline was silent, but involuntarily she lowered her veil. In an instant the acute sense of the grim woman detected the truth.
“Ah! Pride—pride in both,” she said. “I understand—I dare not blame him here. But you—you were the injurer; you have no right to pride; you will see him again.”
“No—never—never!” faltered Caroline, with accents scarcely audible under her veil.
Arabella was silent for a moment, and Lady Montfort rose hastily to depart.
“You will see him again, I tell you;” and Arabella then following her to the door:
“Stay; do you think HE will die?”
“Good heavens! Mr. Darrell?”
“No, no—Jasper Losely!”
“I hope not. What does Dr. F. say?”
“He will not tell me. But it is not the paralysis alone; he might recover from that—so young still. There are other symptoms; that dreadful habit of stimulants! He sinks if he has them not—they hasten death if he has. But—but—but—HE IS MINE, AND MINE ONLY, TO THE GRAVE—NOW!”