He had not been long gone before Maltravers was seen riding through the
street. As he threw himself from his horse, he looked up at the window,
and kissed his hand at Lady Florence, who stood there watching his
arrival, with feelings indeed far different from those he anticipated.
He entered the room lightly and gaily.

Florence stirred not to welcome him. He approached and took her hand;
she withdrew it with a shudder.

"Are you not well, Florence?"

"I am well, for I have recovered."

"What do you mean? why do you turn from me?"

Lady Florence fixed her eyes on him, eyes that literally blazed; her lip
quivered with scorn.

"Mr. Maltravers, at length I know you. I understand the feelings with
which you have sought a union between us. O God! why, why was I thus
cursed with riches--why made a thing of barter and merchandise, and
avarice, and low ambition? Take my wealth, take it, Mr. Maltravers,
since that is what you prize. Heaven knows I can cast it willingly
away; but leave the wretch whom you long deceived, and who now, wretch
though she be, renounces and despises you!"

"Lady Florence, do I hear aright? Who has accused me to you?"

"None, sir, none; I would have believed none. Let it suffice that I am
convinced that our union can be happy to neither: question me no