other."
The insolence of his manner, as he said this, left her unable for some
minutes to reply, and when she did speak, it was with evident effort.

"I trust now, sir, that we have spoken for the last time together. I
own--and it is, indeed, humiliation enough to own it--your words have
deeply insulted me. I cannot deny you the satisfaction of knowing this;
and yet, with all these things before me, I do not hate--I only despise
you."

So saying, she moved towards the door; but Linton stepped forward, and
said: "One instant, madam. You seem to forget that we are pledged to
walk through the rooms; our amiable friends are doubtless looking for
us."

"I will ask Mr. Cashel to be my chaperon another time," said she,
carelessly, and, drawing her shawl around her, passed out, leaving
Linton alone in the conservatory.

"Ay, by St Paul! the work goes bravely on," cried he, as soon as she had
disappeared. "If she ruin not him and herself to boot, now, I am sore
mistaken. The game is full of interest, and, if I had not so much in
hand, would delight me."

With this brief soliloquy, he turned to where the Italian was standing,
pruning an orange-tree.

"Have you learned any English yet, Giovanni?"

A slight but significant gesture of one finger gave the negative.

"No matter, your own soft vowels are in more request here. The dress I
told you of is now come,--my servant will give it to you; so, be ready
with your guitar, if the ladies wish for it, this evening."

Giovanni bowed respectfully, and went on with his work, and soon after
Linton strolled into the garden to muse over the late scene.

Had any one been there to mark the signs of triumphant elation on his
features, they would have seen the man in all the sincerity of his bold,
bad heart. His success was perfect. Knowing well the proud nature of
the young, high-spirited woman, thoroughly acquainted with her impatient
temper and haughty character, he rightly foresaw that to tell her she
had become the subject of a calumny was to rouse her pride to confront
it openly. To whisper that the world would not admit of this or that,
was to make her brave that world, or sink under the effort.

To sting her to such resistance was his wily game, and who knew better
how to play it? The insinuated sneers at the class to which she had once
belonged, as one not "patented" to assume the vices of their betters,
was a deep and most telling hit; and he saw, when they separated, tha