to no one for my conduct; and I am here to remind you of old vows made three years ago beside the fountain at Simla."
"Those old vows have been cancelled, Lady Valeria," said Bothwell coldly. "Surely you have not forgotten our last parting, and the old love-token which you threw away."
"I was beside myself with anger," she answered hurriedly. "You could not have meant all you said that day, Bothwell. You wanted to escape from a false position; you could not guess that my release was to come so soon, that in less than a month I should be free, that in a year I might be your wife."
"Stop!" he cried; "for pity's sake not another word. I am engaged to marry another woman—bound heart and soul to another. I have no other purpose in life but to win her, and to be happy with her."
Lady Valeria looked at him in silence for some moments. She had thrown back her veil when she first addressed him. Her face was almost as white as the crape border of her widow's bonnet, but on each cheek there was one spot of hectic—a spot that looked like flame—and in her eyes, there was the light of anger.
"It is true, then! You are in love with another woman!"
"It is true. I am in love with her; and I am bound to her by all those feelings which are sweetest and most sacred in the mind of a man—by gratitude, by love, by respect, by admiration for her noble qualities. I am to be married to her almost immediately. You can understand, therefore, Lady Valeria, that as I hope always to be your friend—your champion and defender, if need of championship should ever arise—I am justified in remonstrating with you for your folly in coming here alone, upon the day after your husband's funeral."
"My champion, my friend!" she repeated mockingly. "What amazing generosity, what sublime chivalry! You offer me your friendship—you who swore to be my husband, to give me the devotion of your life, whenever it pleased God to set me free from an unnatural union. You who were bound to me by the most sacred vows."
"You released me from those vows when you threw away the love-token. I asked you for my freedom, and you told me that I was free. You cannot recall that release, Lady Valeria."
"I released you from a false position. That is over now: and your alleged motive—your compunction, your remorse of conscience—must be over too."
Bothwell was silent. He had said all that could be said. He stood before Lady Valeria motionless, dumb, ready to bear the brunt of her anger and submit meekly to her reproaches, were they never so ungenerous.
"Do you know what you have done for me?" she demanded passionately. "Do you know what you have cost me—you who
