Heaven, at least, and thine own virtue, my falsehood leaves thee pure
and stainless. Thy hand may yet bless a worthier man. If our cause
triumphs, thy fortunes, thy father's fate, shall be my fondest care.
Never, never will my sleep be sweet, and my conscience laid to rest,
till I hear thee say, as honoured wife--perchance, as blessed and
blessing mother--'False one, I am happy!'"

A cold smile, at these last words, flitted over the girl's face,--the
smile of a broken heart; but it vanished, and with that strange
mixture of sweetness and pride,--mild and forgiving, yet still
spirited and firm,--which belonged to her character, she nerved
herself to the last and saddest effort to preserve dignity and conceal
despair. "Farther words, my lord, are idle; I am rightly punished for
a proud folly. Let not woman love above her state. Think no more of
my destiny."

"No, no," interrupted the remorseful lord, "thy destiny must haunt me
till thou hast chosen one with a better right to protect thee."

At the repetition of that implied desire to transfer her also to
another, a noble indignation came to mar the calm for which she had
hitherto not vainly struggled. "Oh, man!" she exclaimed, with
passion, "does thy deceit give me the right to deceive another? I--I
wed!--I--I--vow at the altar--a love dead, dead forever--dead as my
own heart! Why dost thou mock me with the hollow phrase, 'Thou art
pure and stainless?' Is the virginity of the soul still left? Do the
tears I have shed for thee; doth the thrill of my heart when I heard
thy voice; doth the plighted kiss that burns, burns now into my brow,
and on my lips,--do these, these leave me free to carry to a new
affection the cinders and ashes of a soul thou hast ravaged and