“Bee, have you done?”

“No.  You have given me two reasons why I think you ought not to marry the viscount:  first, because you do not love him, and secondly, because you do love—­someone else.  And now I will give you two more reasons why you should not marry him—­viz., first, because he is not a good man, and, secondly, because he does not love you.  There!” said Beatrice firmly.

“Bee, how dare you say that!  What should you know of his character?  And why should you think he does not love me?”

“I feel that he is not a good man; so do you, I will venture to say, Claudia.  And I know that he marries you for some selfish or mercenary motive—­your money, possibly.  And so also do you know it, Claudia, I dare to affirm.”

“Have you anything more to say?”

“Only this:  to beg, to pray, to urge you not to sin—­not to debase yourself!  Oh, Claudia, if loving Ishmael as you profess to do, and loathing the viscount as you confess you do, and knowing that he cares nothing for you, you still marry him for his title and his rank, as you admit you will—­Claudia!  Claudia! in the pure sight of angels you will be more guilty, and less pardonable than the poor lost creatures of the pavement, whose shadow you would scarcely allow to fall across your path!”

“Bee, you insult, you offend, you madden me!  If this be so—­if you speak the truth—­I cannot help it, and I do not care.  I am ambitious.  If I immolate all my womanly feelings to become a peeress, it is as I would certainly and ruthlessly destroy everything that stood in my way to become a queen, if that were possible.”

“Good heavens, Claudia! are you then really a fiend in female form?” exclaimed the dismayed girl.

“I do not know.  I may be so.  I think Satan has taken possession of me since my betrothal.  At least I feel that I could be capable of great crimes to secure great ends,” said Claudia recklessly.

“And, oh, Heaven! the opportunity will be surely afforded you, if you do not repent.  Satan takes good care to give his servants the fullest freedom to develop their evil.  Oh, Claudia, for the love of Heaven, stop where you are! go no further.  Your next step on this sinful road may make retreat impossible.  Break off this marriage at once.  Better the broken troth—­better the nine days’ wonder—­than the perjured bride, and the loveless, sinful nuptials!  You said you were ambitious.  Claudia!” here Bee’s voice grew almost inaudible from intense passion—­“Claudia! you do not know—­you cannot know what it costs me to say what I am about to say to you now; but—­I will say it:  You love Ishmael.  Well, he loves you—­ah! far better than you love him, or than you are capable of loving anyone.  For you all his toils have been endured, all his laurels won.  Claudia! be proud of this great love; it is a hero’s love—­a poet’s love.  Claudia! you have received much adulation in your life, and you will receive much more; but you never have