"Is this the truth, my lord?" asked the grocer.
Rochester bowed stiffly in acquiescence.
"Then you are again my child," said Bloundel, raising her, and pressing her to his bosom. "What are your intentions towards her?" he continued, addressing the earl.
"They may be readily surmised," replied Rochester, with a scornful laugh.
"Will you wed her, if I agree to the union," asked Bloundel, trembling with concentrated rage.
Amabel looked at her lover as if her life hung on his answer.
Rochester affected not to hear the question, but, as it was repeated still more peremptorily, he repeated carelessly,—"I will consider of it."
"Deceived! deceived!" cried Amabel, falling on her mother's neck, and bursting into tears.
"This outrage shall not pass unpunished," cried Bloundel. And before the earl could draw his sword or offer any resistance, he threw himself upon him, and hurling him to the ground, set his foot upon his bosom.
"Do not kill him," shrieked Amabel, terrified by the stern expression of her father's countenance.