“Not so,” said Camilla, proudly, “I will remain in Berlin. I have courage to defy the whole world for your sake—I will remain to prove that I am not ashamed of my love. The whole world shall know that the brave and handsome Kindar, the beloved of all women, is my lover. Ah, cousin, you merit this compensation at my hands; you defended my honor against the aspersions of my husband, and compelled him to a shameful retraction.”
“Does Baron von Kindar make this boast?” cried a voice behind her.
Camilla turned and saw Lord Elliot standing in the door; he looked at her with a cold, contemptuous glance, which wounded her far more than a spoken insult would have done.
“Why are you here, sir?” she cried. “With what right do you dare force yourself into my presence?”
Lord Elliot made no reply, but smiled coolly, and Camilla’s eyes filled with tears of rage.
“Cousin,” said she, turning to Kindar, “will you not free me from the presence of this contemptible creature, who dares to affront and—”
Suddenly she stopped speaking and gazed in amazement at her handsome cousin; his countenance was not serene; he was indeed livid, and stood trembling and with downcast eyes before her husband.
“Well,” said Lord Elliot, raising himself proudly, “do you not hear your cousin’s command? Will you not dismiss this poor creature who dares disturb this tender interview?”
“I will withdraw.” stammered Kindar, “I am de trop. I have no right to interfere between Lord Elliot and his wife. I take my leave.”
He tried to step through the door, but the powerful hand of Lord Elliot held him back.