‘I can’t see why he is to be pitied! He knew from the beginning that it must all end some day. But I little dreamt it would end like this. _I_ am the one who has suffered all the risk and the blame, and yet no one seems to pity _me_.’ Lizzie was silent. Her heart was burning within her, and yet pride prevented her speech. It was cruelly humiliating to find that all the time she had been engaged to be married to De Courcelles, he had been carrying on with another girl, and had even had the audacity to make his own fault the putative cause for breaking off his engagement to her. She could not decide at the moment whether she loved or hated him the most, his conduct appeared in so mean and despicable a light. ‘You are right, Maraquita,’ she continued, after a pause. ‘He is not worthy of your pity or mine. He has cruelly deceived us both--and you perhaps the most, since even, if he loved you best, he has served you worst! Even now--in the first pitiless agony of hearing your news--I can thank God I do not stand in your position. And if you should ever think better of your decision regarding him, remember I shall not stand in your light, for from this day Henri de Courcelles will be less than nothing to me.’ ‘But the child!--you will not desert the child?’ exclaimed Quita, with something like maternal anxiety in her voice. Liz shuddered. ‘It will be a double burthen to me now,’ she answered; ‘but I have already resolved to do as my father would have wished me, and I will not shirk my self-imposed duty. I will do my utmost for the child.’ ‘Oh, Lizzie, you are very good! You make me feel so ashamed of myself,’ said Quita, attempting to kiss her adopted sister. But Lizzie sprung aside from her. ‘Don’t touch me!’ she cried. ‘Don’t stay near me any longer, or I shall be unable to conceal the loathing I feel for your conduct! False lover--false mother--false friend! Oh, Maraquita, Maraquita! it would have been better if God had called you to Himself when you were as innocent as your unfortunate baby! You and he, between you, have destroyed all my faith in human nature.’ And Liz, throwing herself into a chair, and laying down her head upon the table, sobbed so bitterly and unrestrainedly, that Quita, terrified at the sound, which might attract spectators to spread abroad the news of her being in the bungalow, fled out into the darkness again, and made her way back to the White House. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER VII.