expostulation, in language that she was by no means prepared to endure
with apathy. Lady Lucretia had always been accustomed to deference and
submission; and, having got over something like terror, that was at
first inspired by the imperious manner in which she was now catechised,
her next feeling was that of the warmest resentment. She disdained to
satisfy so insolent a questioner, and even indulged herself in certain
oblique hints calculated to strengthen his suspicions. For some time she
described his folly and presumption in terms of the most ludicrous
sarcasm, and then, suddenly changing her style, bid him never let her
see him more except upon the footing of the most distant acquaintance,
as she was determined never again to subject herself to so unworthy a
treatment. She was happy that he had at length disclosed to her his true
character, and would know how to profit of her present experience to
avoid a repetition of the same danger. All this passed in the full
career of passion on both sides, and Lady Lucretia had no time to
reflect upon what might be the consequence of thus exasperating her
lover.

Count Malvesi left her in all the torments of frenzy. He believed that
this was a premeditated scene, to find a pretence for breaking off an
engagement that was already all but concluded; or, rather, his mind was
racked with a thousand conjectures: he alternately thought that the
injustice might be hers or his own; and he quarrelled with Lady
Lucretia, himself, and the whole world. In this temper he hastened to
the hotel of the English cavalier. The season of expostulation was now
over, and he found himself irresistibly impelled to justify his
precipitation with the lady, by taking for granted that the subject of
his suspicion was beyond the reach of doubt.

Mr. Falkland was at home. The first words of the count were an abrupt