"Yes, sweet one," replied her lover; "I wished him to know it. 'Tis too fair a fortune, my love, to be concealed." "Now," cried the Countess, "I will wager this diamond against a flint stone that he strove to dissuade you. Was it not so, Rochester?" "Yes, good sooth," answered her lover, laughing. "Ay, but eagerly," said the Countess,--"vehemently?" "Even so," rejoined Rochester; "but he might have spared his eloquence, my fair Frances; for he moved me no more than a gust of wind." "Nay, but what did he say?" demanded Lady Essex. "Oh, that matters not," answered the favourite; "a great deal I have forgotten." "But I will hear," exclaimed his mistress. "I will never love you more, Rochester, if you do not tell me. Now, do not smile and look deceitful; for I will hear, word for word, all that he said." "Nay, nay," cried Rochester, "that is hardly fair. What two men will say to one another often bears no repeating." "The man that cannot confide in me, does not love me," rejoined the Countess, withdrawing her hand, and moving further from him. "Well, but you know I love you," answered Rochester. "Then prove it, by telling me what he said," cried the Countess. "If you do not, I shall think you are false and forsworn, and are inclined to follow his counsel and marry some one else.--Yes, yes, I see it very well.--He has succeeded with thee, Rochester, and thou art inclined to seek another bride.--Well, it matters not; I should soon learn to forget the man who would not trust me." "Nonsense, nonsense, sweet girl!" he replied; "you are jealous without cause. I am all your own--your slave--your captive." "Then tell me what he said," exclaimed the Countess, suffering a portion of her natural vehemence to appear, even to him. "But you will be angry," rejoined Rochester. "Why should I tell you what will only pain, grieve, and offend you, and which had no more effect upon me than the idle wind?" "Because I wish to know," she exclaimed. "Because I must know, if I am to have peace or rest. I will not be angry; and I will try to be as little grieved as possible; for if I find men speak ill of me, and bark at me with their foul tongue, I will recollect that it is all for Rochester, and that shall be my consolation." "Well, then," said Rochester, "if you will not be angry, he did oppose my marriage with you in vehement and rough terms,"--and her lover went on weakly to tell her almost all that his friend had said.