his wickedness was no mere act of impulse, but a deliberate course
of infamy and falsehood, continued over many weeks. From the moment when
she made that discovery, he was a stranger to her--and she now bade him
farewell.

"Have you written to her?" Rufus asked, when he had seen the letters.

Amelius reddened with indignation. He was not aware of it himself--but
his look and manner plainly revealed that Regina had lost her last hold
on him. Her letter had inflicted an insult--not a wound: he was outraged
and revolted; the deeper and gentler feelings, the emotions of a grieved
and humiliated lover, had been killed in him by her stern words of
dismissal and farewell.

"Do you think I would allow myself to be treated in that way, without
a word of protest?" he said to Rufus. "I have written, refusing to take
back my promise. 'I declare, on my word of honour, that I have been
faithful to you and to my engagement'--that was how I put it--'and I
scorn the vile construction which your uncle and his friend have placed
upon an act of Christian mercy on my part.' I wrote more tenderly,
before I finished my letter; feeling for her distress, and being anxious
above all things not to add to it. We shall see if she has love enough
left for me to trust my faith and honour, instead of trusting false
appearances. I will give her time."

Rufus considerately abstained from expressing any opinion. He waited
until the morning when a reply might be expected from Paris; and then he
called at the cottage.

Without a word of comment, Amelius put a letter into his friend's hand.
It was his own letter to Regina returned to him. On the back of it,
there was a line in Mr. Farnaby's handwriting:--"If you send any more
letters they will be burnt unopened." In those insolent terms the wretch
wrote with bankruptcy and exposure hanging over his head.

Rufus spoke plainly upon this. "There's an end of it now," he said.
"That girl would never have made the right wife for you, Amelius: you're
well out of it. Forget that you ever knew these people; and let us talk
of something else. How is Sally?"

At that ill-timed inquiry, Amelius showed his temper again. He was in a
state of nervous irritability which made him apt to take offence, where
no offence was intended. "Oh, you needn't be alarmed!" he answered
petulantly; "there's no fear of the poor child coming back to live with
me. She is still under the doctor's care."

Rufus passed over the angry r