my eyes—and then—poor Ernest dying, perhaps, for my sake! But why do you look at me so strangely? there can be no harm in it, surely! Or are you unconvinced, and do you think as the rest do?
Mercedes. [drily.] I think your fear for that fellow's life altogether superfluous.
Teodora. Why? with so skilled an antagonist! You have seen it—Julian
Mercedes. Julian has been avenged. The man who killed him no longer lives, so that you have been wasting your fears and your tears. [With deliberate hardness.]
Teodora. [Eagerly.] It was Ernest
Mercedes. Yes, Ernest.
Teodora. He met the viscount?
Mercedes. Face to face.
Teodora. [Unable to restrain herself.] How noble and brave!
Mercedes. Teodora!
Teodora. What do you mean? Tell me.
Mercedes. [Sternly.] I can read your thought.
Teodora. My thought!
Mercedes. Yes.
Teodora. Which?
Mercedes. You know very well.
Teodora. Have I no right to be glad because Julian is avenged? Is that an impulse I could be expected to repress?
Mercedes. That was not your feeling.
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