"You cannot suppose," exclaimed he, "that I would marry his widow! his murderer!"
Henrietta gazed upon him, with the fire flashing from her large black eyes.
"And. what do you suppose I sent to you for?"
Sir George stood silent, and she rapidly continued:—
"I sent for you that I might know the sweetness of revenge; that I might tell you how I scorned, how I loathed you! Do you think that I am not perfectly aware of the mean treachery of your conduct?"
"Maynard is"—faltered Sir George Kingston.
"What you are not—a person in whom belief may be placed. Now I understand the contrast between yourself and your letters. But it is of no use talking now; the servants will soon be stirring, and it would be rather awkward to be found here."
"For you, perhaps, madam," sneered Sir George.
