"You know that in your heart you cannot believe it. You cannot think it," she cried. "You know that I am your son's wife. You have brought the great strong arm of the law upon me. You have taken from me my husband's name. Yet neither you, nor any human power can make me less his wife. He married me," she continued, her eyes flashing, her face flushing, "he married me before God, and I say that you cannot undo that marriage. I defy you."
"True, I could not undo it, but the law both can and has done so. Half-educated young ladies, who wish to make such grand marriages, should have common sense first. No youth under age, like my son, can legally marry without the consent of his parents."
The flush faded from the beautiful face, and gave place to a white horror. Leone looked at the countess.
"You do not surely think that I married your son for any other reason except that I loved him?" she cried.
"Pray, believe that I have never troubled myself in the least to think of your motive," said my lady.
"I loved him, Lady Lanswell, you could never know how much. You are proud and haughty; you love a hundred things. I loved but him. I love him with my whole heart and soul. If he had been a peasant, instead of an earl, being what he is, I should have loved him just the same."
Lady Lanswell's face darkened with scorn.
"I am willing to listen to anything you may wish to say, but I beg of you leave all such nonsense as love out of the discussion. You have probably come to see me because you want money. Let us come to the point at once."
The pride that flushed the beautiful face of the girl startled the haughty patrician who stood before her.
"Money," cried Leone, "I have never thought of money. I do not understand. Why should I want money from you?"