“I certainly have made some observations.”
“And very kind of you. What a blessing for the Marquess to have such a friend!”
“I spoke to him,” said Mrs. Felix, with a more assured tone, “in much the same spirit as you have been addressing me. It does, indeed, seem a most imprudent act, and I thought it my duty to tell him so.”
“Ay, no doubt; but how came you, lady fair, to imagine that I was also a person to be dreaded by his Lordship; I, Vivian Grey!”
“Did I say you?” asked the lady, pale as death.
“Did you not, Mrs. Felix Lorraine? Have you not, regardless of my interests, in the most unwarrantable and unjustifiable manner; have you not, to gratify some private pique which you entertain against Mr. Cleveland; have you not, I ask you, poisoned the Marquess’ mind against one who never did aught to you but what was kind and honourable?”
“I have been imprudent; I confess it; I have spoken somewhat loosely.”
“Now, listen to me once more,” and Vivian grasped her hand. “What has passed between you and Mr. Cleveland it is not for me to inquire. I give you my word of honour that he never even mentioned your name to me. I can scarcely understand how any man could have incurred the deadly hatred which you appear to entertain for him. I repeat, I can contemplate no situation in which you could be placed together which would justify such behaviour. It could not be justified, even if he had spurned you while—kneeling at his feet.”
Mrs. Felix Lorraine shrieked and fainted. A sprinkling from the fairy stream soon recovered her. “Spare me! spare me!” she faintly cried: “say nothing of what you have seen.”
“Mrs. Lorraine, I have no wish. I have spoken thus explicitly that we may not again misunderstand each other. I have spoken thus explicitly, I say, that I may not be under the necessity of speaking again, for if I speak again it must not be to Mrs. Felix Lorraine. There is my hand; and now let the Elfin’s Well be blotted out of our memories.”