"Certainly. My life depends upon it. It is a terrible risk to run, Blanche, for a foolish little girl."
"Bah! Quaking already? And you pretend to love her?"
"I do love her!" the young man cried, passionately. "I love her to madness, or I would not risk life and liberty to obtain her."
"I don't see the risk," said Mrs. Blanche, coldly. "You have the cards in your own hands—play them as you choose. Only you and I know the secret."
Dr. Oleander looked at his fair relative with a very gloomy face.
"A secret that two know is a secret no longer."
"Do you dare doubt me?" demanded the lady, fiercely.
"No—yes—I don't know. Oh! never look so haughtily insulted, Mrs. Walraven. I almost doubt myself. It's my first felony, and it is natural a fellow should quake a little. But Mollie is worth the risk—worth ten thousand risks. If it were to do over again, I would do it. By Heaven, Blanche! you should have seen her as she stood there brandishing that dagger aloft and defying me! I never saw anything so transcendently beautiful!"
Mrs. Walraven's scornful upper lip curled.
"Lady Macbeth—four feet high—eh? 'Give me the daggers!' I always knew she was a vixen. Your married life is likely to be a happy one, my dear Guy!"