“That’s not the Luttrell way to look at it!” said he, fiercely.
“Remember, Harry, I am only Luttrell by adoption,” said she, rising, and approaching the fire.
“What are you looking for there in the embers, Kate?”
“My ring,” said she, drawing the charred and blackened ring out from the ashes. “I mean to keep this—an emblem of a sorrow and a shame which should not be forgotten.”
“What do you mean? It was by no fault of yours this trick was worked!”
“No; but it was my own heartless ambition that provoked it, Harry. I wanted to be a great lady, at the cost of all that gives life a charm.”
“You surely would not have married this old man—this Sir Within, you speak of?”
“I would,” said she, coldly.
“Oh, Kate! unsay that. Tell me that you only said this in levity or jest!”
“I will not tell you one word of myself which is not true,” said she, in a tone firm and collected.