He strove to soften it, 'tis true--to put it in general terms, and to conceal the harsh epithets that Overbury had used; but the Countess would hear all, and with instant perception discovered whenever he tried to deceive her in a word. She kept her temper, too, to the end, sometimes urging him playfully, and affecting to laugh at the rude terms which Overbury had used towards her--sometimes pressing him gravely to deal fairly by her, and to speak the truth--sometimes suggesting the words herself in a gay tone, as if she were sure that those were the epithets he had given her, and cared little for them. But when the whole story was told, her fierce indignation burst forth. "The villain!" she exclaimed--"the base villain! Can you consider this man as your friend, Rochester, after such words as those to your affianced wife? Can you believe that he sought to serve you? Can you suppose that anything but his own interest injured, and his schemes for his own benefit defeated, could have induced him to speak thus of a lady whom you love?--No, no, the man betrays himself!--It is evident that he spoke with the rage of disappointment. It was for his own advancement that he sought to marry you to the Lady Arabella, not for your benefit. If it had been merely out of regard for you, would he have thus abused her who has sacrificed all for you? If he really loved you, would he have thus condemned her love? For whom have I made myself all that he calls me?--for whom have I risked everything, resigned everything? Did I ever give a thought to any other man on earth? With all his hatred and malice, he dare not say that; and had he possessed towards you one particle of true attachment, he would have learned to estimate that, which flings every other consideration but its love away,"--and, bursting into tears, she cast herself, sobbing passionately, upon Rochester's bosom. He had gazed at her with admiration, not unmixed with wonder, as he beheld her lustrous eyes flashing, and all her beautiful features lighted up with indignation; and when the shower followed the thunder, he held her tenderly to his heart, and tried to soothe her with words of love and promises of everlasting affection. "No, Rochester, no!" she cried, at length, raising herself, and wiping away the drops from her cheeks; "it is not for myself I care. Of me he may say what he likes, but he must not deceive and betray you any longer. He seeks but to make a tool of you for his own advancement; and to it he will not fail to sacrifice you as soon as the opportunity occurs. Your fortune and high favour, your noble qualities and distinction, have, as they always do, created many enemies, all eager to pull you down; and, in such circumstances, it needs but a faithless friend to bring about a man's destruction." "I do not think he would betray me," replied Rochester.