“Are you quite sure, Inez?”
“I swear it!—so no more of him. Gonzales Cordenza—I’ve broke with him long since. So that you see, dearest Frederic—”
“Frederic!” said I, starting almost to my feet with, amazement, while she continued:—
“I’m your own,—all your own!”
“Oh, the coquette, the heartless jilt!” groaned I, half-aloud.
“And O’Malley, Inez, poor Charley!—what of him?”
“Poor thing! I can’t help him. But he’s such a puppy, the lesson may do him good.”
“But perhaps he loved you, Inez?”
“To be sure he did; I wished him to do so,—I can’t bear not to be loved. But, Frederic, tell me, may I trust you,—will you keep faithful to me?”
“Sweetest Inez! by this last kiss I swear that such as I kneel before you now, you’ll ever find me.”