“Then your course is plain. You must choose to-night between him and me. You must dismiss him by letter, or me upon this spot. I have not much fortune to offer you, and no coronet; but I love you, and you have seen me reject a lovely and accomplished woman, whom I esteem as much as you do this lord. Reject him? Why, you have seen me fling her away from me like a dog sooner than leave you in a moment's doubt of my love: if you cannot write a civil note declining an earl for me, your love in not worthy of mine, and I will begone with my love. I will not take it to Mademoiselle Klosking, though I esteem her as you do this lord; but, at all events, I will take it away from you, and leave you my curse instead, for a false, fickle girl that could not wait one little month, but must fall, with her engaged ring on her finger, into another man's arms. Oh, Zoe! Zoe! who could have believed this of you?”
“Don't reproach me. I won't bear it,” she cried, wildly.
“I hope not to have to reproach you,” said he, firmly; “I cannot conceive your hesitating.”
“I am worn out. Love has been too great a torment. Oh, if I could find peace!”
Again her tears flowed.
He put on a sympathizing air. “You shall have peace. Dismiss him as I tell you, and he will trouble you no more; shake hands with me, and say you prefer him, and I will trouble you no more. But with two lovers, peace is out of the question, and so is self-respect. I know I could not vacillate between you and Mademoiselle Klosking or any other woman.”
“Ah, Edward, if I do this, you ought to love me very dearly.”
“I shall. Better than ever—if possible.”
“And never make me jealous again.”
“I never shall, dearest. Our troubles are over.”