THE END
"It certainly would be a more suitable match for me," rejoined Lady Molly, coolly.
"He told me you had formally accepted him," said the man, with enforced calm; "is that true?"
"Partly," she replied.
"But you won't marry him!"
The exclamation seemed to come straight from a heart brimful of passion, of love, of hate, and of revenge. The voice had the same intonation in it which had rung an hour ago in the dark Elkhorn woods.
"I may do," came in quiet accents from my dear lady.
"You won't marry him," repeated Felkin, roughly.
"Who shall prevent me?" retorted Lady Molly, with a low, sarcastic laugh.
"I will."
"You?" she said contemptuously.
"I told him an hour ago that he must give you up. I tell you now that you shall not be Philip Baddock's wife."
"Oh!" she interposed. And I could almost see the disdainful shrug of her shoulders, the flash of contempt in her expressive eyes.
No doubt it maddened him to see her so cool, so indifferent, when he had thought that he could win her. I do believe that the poor wretch loved her. She was always beautiful, but never more so than to-night when she had obviously determined finally to dismiss him.
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