further; all intercourse between us is for ever over!"

"Pause," said Maltravers, with cold and grave solemnity; "another word,
and the gulf will become impassable. Pause."

"Do not," exclaimed the unhappy lady, stung by what she considered the
assurance of a hardened hypocrisy--" do not affect this haughty
superiority; it dupes me no longer. I was your slave while I loved you:
the tie is broken. I am free, and I hate and scorn you! Mercenary and
sordid as you are, your baseness of spirit revives the differences of
our rank. Henceforth, Mr. Maltravers, I am Lady Florence Lascelles, and
by that title alone will you know me. Begone, Sir!"

As she spoke, with passion distorting every feature of her face, all her
beauty vanished away from the eyes of the proud Maltravers, as if by
witchcraft: the angel seemed transformed into the fury; and cold,
bitter, and withering was the eye which he fixed upon that altered
countenance.

"Mark me, Lady Florence Lascelles," said he, very calmly, "you have now
said what you can never recall. Neither in man nor in woman did Ernest
Maltravers ever forget or forgive a sentence which accused him of
dishonour. I bid you farewell for ever; and with my last words I
condemn you to the darkest of all dooms--the remorse that comes too
late!" Slowly he moved away; and as the door closed upon that towering
and haughty form, Florence already felt that his curse was working to
its fulfilment. She rushed to the window--she caught one last glimpse
of him as his horse bore him rapidly away. Ah! when shall they meet
again?