“I think it did matter, Frank.”
“I don’t see it a bit. He had resigned his rights—whatever they were.”
“But I had not accepted his resignation—as they say in the newspapers;—nor have I now.”
“You would still marry him?”
“I don’t say that, Frank. This is an important business, and let us go through it steadily. I would certainly like to have him again at my feet. Whether I would deign to lift him up again is another thing. Is not that natural, after what he has done to me?”
“Woman’s nature.”
“And I am a woman. Yes, Frank. I would have him again at my disposal—and he is so. He is to write me a long letter;—so like a Government-man, isn’t it? And he has told me already what he is to put into the letter. They always do, you know. He is to say that he’ll marry me if I choose.”
“He has promised to say that?”
“When he said that he would come, I made up my mind that he should not go out of the house till he had promised that. He couldn’t get out of it. What had I done?” Frank thought of the scene among the rocks. He did not, of course, allude to it, but Lizzie was not so reticent. “As to what that old rogue saw down in Scotland, I don’t care a bit about it, Frank. He has been up in London, and telling them all, no doubt. Nasty, dirty eavesdropper! But what does it come to? Psha! When he mentioned your name I silenced him at once. What could I have done, unless I had had some friend? At any rate, he is to ask me again in writing—and then what shall I say?”
“You must consult your own heart.”
“No, Frank;—I need not do that. Why do you say so?”
“I know not what else to say.”
“A woman can marry without consulting her heart. Women do so every day. This man is a lord, and has a position. No doubt I despise him thoroughly—utterly. I don’t hate him, because he is not worth being hated.”
“And yet you would marry him?”
“I have not said so. I will tell you this truth, though perhaps you will say it is not feminine. I would fain marry someone. To be as I have been for the last two years is not a happy condition.”
“I would not marry a man I despised.”
“Nor would I—willingly. He is honest and respectable; and in spite of all that has come and gone would, I think, behave well to a woman when she was once his wife. Of course, I would prefer to marry a man that I could love. But if that is impossible, Frank—”
“I thought that you had determined that you would have nothing to do with this lord.”
“I thought so too. Frank, you have known all that I have thought, and all that I have wished. You talk to me of marrying where my heart has been given. Is it possible that I should do so?”
“How am I to say?”
“Come, Frank, be true with me. I am forcing myself to speak truth to you. I think that between you and me, at any rate, there should be no words spoken that are not true. Frank, you know where my heart is.” As she said this, she stood over him, and laid her hand upon his shoulder. “Will you answer me one question?”
“If I can, I will.”
“Are you engaged to marry Lucy Morris?”
“I am.”
“And you intend to marry her?” To this question he made no immediate answer. “We are old enough now, Frank, to know that something more than what you call heart is wanted to make us happy when we marry. I will say nothing hard of Lucy, though she be my rival.”
“You can say nothing hard of her. She is perfect.”
“We will let that pass, though it is hardly kind of you, just at the present moment. Let her be perfect. Can you marry this perfection without a sixpence—you that are in debt, and who never could save a sixpence in your life? Would it be for her good—or for yours? You have done a foolish thing, sir, and you know that you must get out of it.”
“I know nothing of the kind.”
“You cannot marry Lucy Morris. That is the truth. My present need makes me bold. Frank, shall I be your wife? Such a marriage will not be without love, at any rate on one side—though there be utter indifference on the other!”
“You know I am not indifferent to you,” said he, with wicked weakness.
“Now, at any rate,” she continued, “you must understand what must be my answer to Lord Fawn. It is you that must answer Lord Fawn. If my heart is to be broken, I may as well break it under his roof as another.”
“I have no roof to offer you,” he said.
“But I have one for you,” she said, throwing her arm round his neck. He bore her embrace for a minute, returning it with the pressure of his arm; and then, escaping from it, seized his hat and left her standing in the room.
LXIII
The Corsair Is Afraid
On the following morning—Monday morning—there appeared in one of the daily newspapers the paragraph of which Lady Linlithgow had spoken to Lucy Morris. “We are given to understand,”—newspapers are very frequently given to understand—“that a man well-known to the London police as an accomplished housebreaker has been arrested in reference to the robbery which was effected on the 30th of January last at Lady Eustace’s house in
