I promised, I intended to have kept my word, Laura," said he,
in deep dejection; "I believed I could have stifled the passion
that consumes me, and talked to you in the words of sincere, devoted
friendship, but I cannot. Old memories of once happiness, brought up too
vividly by seeing you, as I used to see you, when in many a country walk
we sauntered on, dreaming of the time when, mine, by every tie of right,
as by affection--"

"How you requited that affection, Linton!" said she, in a tone whose
deep reproach seemed actually to stun him. Then suddenly changing to an
air of disdainful anger, she continued: "You are a bold man, Linton.
I thought it would be too much for even _your_ hardihood to recur to a
theme so full of humiliation for yourself; but I know your theory, sir:
you think there is a kind of heroism in exaggerated baseness, and that
it is no less great to transcend men in crime than in virtue. You dare
to speak of an affection that you betrayed and bartered for money."

"I made you a peeress, madam. When you were Laura Gardiner, you couldn't
have spoken to me as now you speak."

"If I consented to the vile contract, it was that, when I discovered
your baseness, any refuge was preferable to being the wife of one like
you!"

"A most complimentary assurance, not only to myself, but his Lordship,"
said Linton, with an insolent smile.

"Now, hear me," said she, not noticing the taunt, but speaking with a
voice of deep collected earnestness. "It is in vain to build upon time
or perseverance--the allies you trust so deeply--to renew the ties
broken forever. If I had no other higher and more sustaining motive, my
knowledge of you would be enough to rescue me from this danger. I know
you well, Linton. You have often told me what an enemy you could be.
This, at least, I believe of all that you have ever sworn! I have a full
faith, too, in your ingenuity and skill; and yet I would rather brave
both--ay, both hate and craft--than trust to what you call your honor."

"You do indeed know me well, Laura," said he, in a voice broken and
faltering, "or you never had dared to speak such words to me. There is
not one breathing could have uttered them and not pay the penalty, save
yourself. I feel in my inmost heart how deeply I have wronged you, but
is not my whole life an atonement for the wrong? Am I not heartbroken
and wretched, without a hope or a future? What greater punishment did
any one ever incur than to live i