‘Why didn’t he go, Lord Nidderdale?’ She asked the question with an altered tone and an altered face.  ’If you really know, you might as well tell me.’

’No, Marie;—­that’s just what I ought not to do.  But he ought to tell you.  Do you really in your heart believe that he means to come back to you?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said, sobbing.  ’I do love him;—­I do indeed.  I know that you are good-natured.  You are more good-natured than he is.  But he did like me.  You never did;—­no; not a bit.  It isn’t true.  I ain’t a fool.  I know.  No;—­go away...