“With Sir Norman Kingsley!” repeated Leoline, faintly. “I-I am afraid I do not quite understand.”
“Then you will not be much longer in that deplorable state,” said George, backing out, “for here they are.”
“Pardon this intrusion, fairest Leoline,” began the count, “but Sir Norman and I are about to start on a journey, and before we go, there is a little difference of opinion between us that you are to settle.”
Leoline looked first at one, and then at the other, utterly bewildered.
“What is it?” she asked.
“A simple matter enough. Last evening, if you recollect, you were my promised bride.”
“It was against my will,” said Leoline, boldly, though her voice shook, “You and Prudence made me.”
“Nay, Leoline, you wrong me. I, at least, need no compulsion.”
“You know better. You haunted me continually; you gave me no peace at all; and I would just have married you to get rid of you.”
“And you never loved me?”