“What did you intend?  After what has occurred I suppose I have a right to ask such a question.  I have made a somewhat unpleasant journey to-day, all alone, on purpose to ask that question.  What did you intend?” In his great annoyance he struck his shovel angrily against the ground.  “And I will not leave you till I get an answer to the question.  What did you intend, Lord Rufford?” There was nothing for him but silence and a gradual progress back towards the house.

But from the latter resource she cut him off for a time.  “You will do me the favour to remain with me here till this conversation is ended.  You cannot refuse me so slight a request as that, seeing the trouble to which you have put me.  I never saw a man so forgetful of words.  You cannot speak.  Have you no excuse to offer, not a word to say in explanation—­of conduct so black that I don’t think here in England I ever heard a case to equal it?  If your sister had been treated so!”

“It would have been impossible”

“I believe it.  Her cautious nature would have trusted no man as I trusted you.  Her lips, doubtless, were never unfrozen till the settlements had been signed.  With her it was a matter of bargain, not of love.  I can well believe that.”

“I will not talk about my sister.”

“It seems to me, Lord Rufford, that you object to talk about anything.  You certainly have been very uncommunicative with reference to yourself.  Were you lying when you told me that you loved me?”

“No.”

“Did I lie when I told the Duchess that you had promised me your love?  Did I lie when I told my mother that in these days a man does not always mention marriage when he asks a girl to be his wife?  You said you loved me, and I believed you, and the rest was a thing of course.  And you meant it.  You know you meant it.  When you held me in your arms in the carriage you know you meant me to suppose that it would always be so.  Then the fear of your sister came upon you, and of your sister’s husband,—­and you ran away!  I wonder whether you think yourself a man!” And yet she felt that she had not hit him yet.  He was wretched enough; and she could see that he was wretched; but the wretchedness would pass away as soon as she was gone.  How could she stab him so that the wound would remain?  With what virus could she poison her arrow, so that the agony might be prolonged.  “And such a coward too!  I began to suspect it when you started that night from Mistletoe,—­though I did not think then that you could be all mean, all cowardly.  From that day to this, you have not dared to speak a word of truth.  Every word has been a falsehood.”

“By heavens, no.”

“Every word a falsehood! and I, a lady,—­a lady whom you have so deeply injured, whose cruel injury even you have not the face to deny,—­am forced by your cowardice to come to you here, because you have not dared to come out to meet me.  Is that true!”