She stopped, she turned: he seized her hands to detain her. Oh, unfortunate Ellen!
At that moment St. Aubyn himself entered the room. He rushed impetuously forward, exclaiming, "Dissembling woman! Was it for this you left your home—to meet this villain—to come to his very lodging in search of him?"
"Oh, no! oh, no!" sobbed Ellen, as she sunk at his feet in a swoon so deep, so death-like, that it seemed as if her life had left her.
"Oh, you have killed my Lady!" cried Jane: "my dear Lady! Oh, my Lord, we came here for a book, and not——"
"Peace, peace!" sternly interrupted St. Aubyn: "I will not hear a word. Is she dead?"
"Oh, Lord, I hope not! How can your Lordship talk so shockingly? Oh, Mrs. Birtley, for God's sake help my Lady—call assistance!"
Between them they raised her: for Charles, confounded, shocked, and half distracted, dared not, and St. Aubyn, gloomy, cold, and stern, would not assist her. At length returning life mantled on her cheek, and her first incoherent words were, "St. Aubyn, dear St. Aubyn, save me!"
St. Aubyn, somewhat calmer, and fearing he might have been too rash, struggled with the jealous pangs which rent his heart, and approaching her, said, "How is it, Ellen—are you better?"
"Yes, better, my love; but sick, oh, sick at heart!"
"Compose yourself; all is well."