"I do not wish to hurry you, Love, but you must see for yourself how important it is that you should make a speedy decision. The bishop and the guests are waiting for the wedding, and unless it comes off soon the breakfast will be spoiled."
Slowly Love got upon his feet, and steadying his trembling frame by a hand on the back of a chair, startled her with the mocking words:
"You have plotted cleverly, madame, but you have lost the game. Neither Olive nor Ela will ever be bride of mine!"
Her eyes flashed in her pale face, and she said, insolently:
"Very well, then; I am the mistress of Ellsworth, and you a pauper!"
"Not so fast; you have not heard all," he answered coolly. "I understand the little game you have been playing, madame, you and your two clever nieces. You have plotted to frighten Dainty to death, but foiled in that, you kidnaped her at the eleventh hour, hoping to frighten me into marrying one of your nieces by the threat of disinheritance; but your malicious scheme has failed. There exists an insuperable objection to my marriage with Olive or Ela."
"Insuperable?" she muttered, incredulously.
"Yes; I am a married man already."
A bolt of lightning would not have startled her as much as those calmly spoken words.
It was her turn now to stare speechlessly, while Love continued, earnestly: