"You can do so much for me if you will!" she said, laying her hand on his arm. "You can tell all these people who talk so foolishly that they are wrong,--tell them how happy I am! And that my Philip has never deceived me in any matter, great or small!"
"Never?" he asked with a slight sneer. "You are sure?"
"Sure!" she answered bravely. "He would keep nothing from me that it was necessary or good for me to know. And I--oh! I might pass all my life in striving to please him, and yet I should never, never be worthy of all his tenderness and goodness! And that he goes many times to a theatre without me--what is it? A mere nothing--a trifle to laugh at! It is not needful to tell me of such a small circumstance!"
As she spoke she smiled--her form seemed to dilate with a sort of inner confidence and rapture.
Sir Francis stared at her half shamed,--half savage. The beautiful, appealing face, bright with simple trust, roused him to no sort of manly respect or forbearance,--the very touch of the blossom-white hand she had laid so innocently on his arm, stung his passion as with a lash--as he had said, he was fond of hunting--he had chased the unconscious deer all through the summer, and now that it had turned to bay with such pitiful mildness and sweet pleading, why not draw the knife across its slim throat without mercy?
"Really, Lady Errington!" he said at last sarcastically, "your wifely enthusiasm and confidence are indeed charming! But, unfortunately, the proofs are all against you. Truth is truth, however much you may wish to blind your eyes to its manifestations. I sincerely wish Sir Philip were present to hear your eloquent praises of him, instead of being where he most undoubtedly is,--in the arms of Violet Vere!"
As he said these words she started away from him and put her hands to her ears as though to shut out some discordant sound--her eyes glowed feverishly. A cold shiver shook her from head to foot.
"That is false--false!" she muttered in a low, choked voice. "How can you--how dare you?"
She ceased, and with a swaying, bewildered movement, as though she were blind, she fell senseless at his feet.
In one second he was kneeling beside her. He raised her head on his arm,--he gazed eagerly on her fair, still features. A dark contraction of his brows showed that his thoughts were not altogether righteous ones. Suddenly he laid her down again gently, and, springing to the door, locked it. Returning, he once more lifted her in a half-reclining position, and encircling her with his arms, drew her close to his breast and kissed her. He was in no hurry for her to recover--she looked very beautiful--she was helpless--she was in his power. The silvery ting-ling of the clock on the mantel-piece striking eleven startled him a little--he listened painfully--he thought he heard some one trying the handle of the door he had locked. Again--again he kissed those pale, unconscious lips! Presently, a slight shiver ran through her frame--she sighed, and a little moan escaped her. Gradually, as warmth and sensation returned to her, she felt the pressure of his embrace, and murmured-"Philip! Darling,--you have come back earlier,--I thought--"