“Tush!” replied the earl impatiently, “you know not what you say. Go to your apartment, Elizabeth, and reflect upon the matter until you recollect your duty to me. Here comes Spencer now with some visitors, and I have no more leisure for your childish folly.”
But Lady Betty would not be silenced; as she retired toward the door opposite the one that was opening to admit the earl’s visitors, she murmured low but distinctly,—
“I am his wife, my lord, and I will be no less,” and she swept out with her face aflame and her head high.
She came to the head of the great staircase and stood looking down, gracefully poised, her finger on her lips; a charming figure, musing upon destiny, with the soft candle-light shining down upon her stately young head and her flowing white robes. She began to hum softly to herself the air of “Roseen Dhu.”
“And one beaming smile from you
Would float like light between
My toils and me, my own, my true,
My dark Rosaleen!
My fond Rosaleen!
Would give me life and soul anew,