"Nor I a loving wife. But I accept you as I said just now, as a stepping-stone to power," she replies, with provoking coolness.
He rises to depart.
"It is settled, then," he observes, with forced complaisance. "You will help me to the earldom, and I will pay you by making you my bride. When shall the wedding be?"
"On the day when you take possession of Fairvale's title and estates," she answers, promptly. "Au revoir, my charming bridegroom."
[CHAPTER XXXVIII.]
Ere Lady Vera fully recovers consciousness again, she has reached her destination, the ruins of a once fine old mansion in the heart of a dense wood near the sea.
She opens her eyes in a large and lofty upper chamber to find herself lying in a high, old-fashioned, four posted bed, with faded hangings of crimson velvet. Two waxen candles in silver candelabra on the tall, carved mantel shed a soft, steady light through the room, and by their aid Vera deciphers the features of a stout, middle-aged woman, in cap and apron, who is bending over her, bathing her face and hands with aromatic vinegar.
The beautiful girl springs up to a sitting posture with a cry of fear and indignation, and with outstretched hands repulses the woman.