Lady Lyndon issued from the room in the greatest flurry.  She was dressed in deep weeds, with a veil over her face, and did not recognise the person waiting in the outer apartment.  As she went down the stairs, I stepped lightly after her, and as her chairman opened her door, sprang forward, and took her hand to place her in the vehicle.  ‘Dearest widow,’ said I, ’his Lordship spoke correctly.  Console yourself with Eugenio!’ She was too frightened even to scream, as her chairman carried her away.  She was set down at her house, and you may be sure that I was at the chair-door, as before, to help her out.

‘Monstrous man!’ said she, ‘I desire you to leave me.’

‘Madam, it would be against my oath,’ replied I; ’recollect the vow Eugenio sent to Calista.’

’If you do not quit me, I will call for the domestics to turn you from the door.’

’What! when I am come with my Calista’s letters in my pocket, to return them mayhap?  You can soothe, madam, but you cannot frighten Redmond Barry.’

‘What is it you would have of me, sir?’ said the widow, rather agitated.

‘Let me come upstairs, and I will tell you all,’ I replied; and she condescended to give me her hand, and to permit me to lead her from her chair to her drawing-room.

When we were alone I opened my mind honourably to her.

‘Dearest madam,’ said I, ’do not let your cruelty drive a desperate slave to fatal measures.  I adore you.  In former days you allowed me to whisper my passion to you unrestrained; at present you drive me from your door, leave my letters unanswered, and prefer another to me.  My flesh and blood cannot bear such treatment.  Look upon the punishment I have been obliged to inflict; tremble at that which I may be compelled to administer to that unfortunate young man:  so sure as he marries you, madam, he dies.’

‘I do not recognise,’ said the widow, ’the least right you have to give the law to the Countess of Lyndon:  I do not in the least understand your threats, or heed them.  What has passed between me and an Irish adventurer that should authorise this impertinent intrusion?’

‘These have passed, madam,’ said I,—­’Calista’s letters to Eugenio.  They may have been very innocent; but will the world believe it?  You may have only intended to play with the heart of the poor artless Irish gentleman who adored and confided in you.  But who will believe the stories of your innocence, against the irrefragable testimony of your own handwriting?  Who will believe that you could write these letters in the mere wantonness of coquetry, and not under the influence of affection?’

‘Villain!’ cried my Lady Lyndon, ’could you dare to construe out of those idle letters of mine any other meaning than that which they really bear?’

‘I will construe anything out of them,’ said I; ’such is the passion which animates me towards you.  I have sworn it—­you must and shall be mine!  Did you ever know me promise to accomplish a thing and fail?  Which will you prefer to have from me—­a love such as woman never knew from man before, or a hatred to which there exists no parallel?’