Robert looked very pale and stern; one can see how firm his jaw is in reality, and how steady his dear, blue eyes.
"I told him I loved Evangeline, whom I understood he had met yesterday, and that I intended to marry her."
"And he said?" asked Lady Merrenden, breathless.
I only held tighter Robert's hand.
"He swore like a trooper, he thumped his glass down on the table and smashed it—a disgusting exhibition of temper—I was ashamed of him. Then he said never, as long as he lived and could prevent it; that he had heard something of my infatuation, so as I am not given that way he had made inquiries, and found the family was most unsatisfactory. Then he had come here yesterday on purpose to see you—darling," turning to me, "and that he had judged for himself. The girl was a 'devilish beauty' (his words, not mine), with the naughtiest, provoking eyes, and a mouth—No, I can't say the rest, it makes me too mad," and Robert's eyes flashed.
Lady Merrenden rose from her seat and came and took my other hand. I felt as if I could not stand too tall and straight.
"The long and short of it is, he has absolutely refused to have anything to do with the matter, says I need expect nothing further from him, and we have parted for good and all."
"Oh, Robert!" It was almost a cry from Lady Merrenden.
Robert put his arms round me, and his face changed to radiance.
"Well, I don't care; what does it matter? A few places and thousands in the dim future—the loss of them is nothing to me if I only have my Evangeline now."