Cora sighed in silence.
"Now, then. Of course you must know who this correspondent is."
"Without offense to you, grandfather, I neither know nor care," languidly replied the lady.
"But it is not without offense to me. You are the most eccentric and inconsistent woman I ever met in all the course of my life. You are not constant even to your inconstancy."
Having uttered this paradox, the old man threw himself back in his chair and gazed at his granddaughter.
"I am not yet clear as to your meaning, sir," she said, coldly but respectfully.
"What! Have you quite forgotten the titled dandy for whom you were near breaking your heart three years ago? For whom you were ready to throw over one of the best and truest men that ever lived! For whom you really did drive Regulas Rothsay, on the proudest and happiest day of his life, into exile and death!"
"Oh, don't! don't! grandfather! Don't!" wailed Cora, sinking on an office stool, and dropping her hands and head on the table.
"Now, none of that, mistress. No hysterics, if you please. I won't permit any woman about me to indulge in such tantrums. Listen to me, ma'am. My correspondent was young Cumbervale, the noodle!"
"Then I never wish to see or hear or think of him again!" exclaimed Cora.