son now: you are flying in the face of heaven's decrees. God has designed me to be your comfort and protector—I feel it—I know it as certainly as if a voice from heaven declared 'Ye twain shall be one flesh'—and you spurn me from you—"
"Let me go, Mr. Hargrave!" said I sternly. But he only tightened his grasp.
"Let me go!" I repeated, quivering with indignation.
His face was almost opposite the window as he knelt. With a slight start, I saw him glance towards it; and then a gleam of malicious triumph lit up his countenance. Looking over my shoulder, I beheld a shadow just retiring round the corner.
"That is Grimsby," said he deliberately. "He will report what he has seen to Huntingdon and all the rest, with such embellishments as he thinks proper. He has no love for you, Mrs. Huntingdon—no reverence for your sex—no belief in virtue—no admiration
