"Mrs. Rothsay, then," amended Rose, in a calm voice, as if determined not to take offense—"Mrs. Rothsay, allow me to explain how all this came to pass. I have always, from the time I first lived in his house, felt a profound respect and affection for your grandfather—"
"Mr. Rockharrt, if you please," said Cora.
"For Mr. Rockharrt, then, as well as for his sainted wife, the late Mrs. Rockharrt. I—"
"Madam!" interrupted Cora. "Is there nothing too holy to be profaned by your lips? You should at least have the good taste to leave that lady's sacred memory alone."
"Certainly, if you wish; but she was a good friend to me, and I served her with a daughter's love and devotion. In my last visit to Rockhold I also served Mr. Rockharrt more zealously than ever, because, indeed, he needed such affectionate service more than before. He has grown so much accustomed to my services that they now seem vitally necessary to him. But, of course, I cannot take care of him day and night, in parlor and chamber, unless I become his wife—'the Abisheg of his age.' And so, Cora, dear—I beg pardon—Mrs. Rothsay, I have yielded to his pleadings and consented to marry him."
"Mr. Rockharrt has already told me so," coldly replied Cora.
"And, dear, I wish to add this—that the marriage need make no difference in our domestic relations at Rockhold."
"I do not understand you."
"I mean in the family circle."
"Oh! thank you!" said Cora, with the nearest approach to a sneer that ever she made. "I have heard all you have to say, Mrs. Stillwater, and now I have to reply—First, that I give you no credit for any respect or affection that you may profess for Mr. Rockharrt, or for disinterested motives in marrying the aged millionaire."