“I am quite aware,” said Sir Richard, somewhat hotly, “that I am not the first in the field, nor the only one. But I was given to understand that your early attachment was entirely at an end.”
“It is so. There is no one that I wish to marry.” When Amethyst had made this assertion to Lucian Leigh, he had implicitly believed her, but as she raised her eyes to Sir Richard, she saw that he did not think that she was telling the truth. Probably he did not expect truth on such a subject from a young lady. She saw that it would be absolutely hopeless to make him understand the real state of her mind, and a sudden sense of violent recoil came to the aid of her courage.
He was very angry, but he made a strong effort to control himself and to behave well.
“I don’t think I have deserved this caprice,” he said.
“No, I don’t think you have,” said Amethyst, “you have offered me much more than I deserve. I have been very wrong; I will not pretend to you that I did not once mean to accept you. But I never shall do so now—never.”
“It would be very unbecoming in me,” said Sir Richard, “if I recalled any of the means by which I have endeavoured to recommend myself. Amethyst, don’t drive me crazy. Don’t you know that I worship you? I will not give you up. I’ve swallowed everything about your family. I am prepared to make a queen of you. There’s nothing my money and your beauty won’t command. You shall be the greatest lady, short of royalty, in England in five years’ time. You’ll take the lead in the county, and with it all, you’ll never have reason to be ashamed of your husband. I’ve a fair square past behind me. My money’s honestly come by, and, by heaven, there’s a great future before me—and my wife. And I love you.”
It was not badly done. It was all true. It was what she had meant her beauty to win for her.
“I can’t,” she said, turning white, and trembling; “you don’t understand what I’m made of. If I loved you, I could be the splendid wife you want, but as I don’t—I should hate all that—and very soon I should hate you?”
She spoke low, but in a voice full of passion. His colour rose, and he came close to her side.
“Who is it? Who has come between us?” he said, when there was the sound of a soft sweep and rustle, and Lady Haredale’s light sweet voice was heard saying—