“No! I will say no more. You know enough already. I tell you, I believe Alfred Stevens to be a hypocrite and a villain. Is not that enough? What is it to you whether he is so or not? What is it to me, at least? You do not suppose that it is anything to me? Why should you? What should he be? I tell you he is nothing to me--nothing--nothing--nothing! Villain or hypocrite, or what not--he is no more to me than the earth on which I tread. Let me hear no more about him, I pray you. I would not hear his name! Are there not villains enough in the world, that you should think and speak of one only?” With these vehement words she left the room, and hurried to her chamber. She stopped suddenly before the mirror. “And is it thus!” she exclaimed--“and I am--” The mother by this time had followed her into the room. “What is the meaning of this, Margaret?--tell me!” cried the old woman in the wildest agitation. “What should it be, mother? Look at me!--in my eyes--do they not tell you? Can you not read?” “I see nothing--I do not understand you, Margaret.” “Indeed! but you shall understand me! I thought my face would tell you without my words. _I_ see it there, legible enough, to myself. Look again!--spare me if you can--spare your own ears the necessity of hearing me speak!” “You terrify me, Margaret--I fear you are out of your mind. “No! no! that need not be your fear; nor, were it true, would it be a fear of mine. It might be something to hope--to pray for. It might bring relief. Hear me, since you will not see. You ask me why I believe Stevens to be a villain. I KNOW it.” “Ha! how know it!” “How! How should I know it? Well, I see that I must speak. Listen then. You bade me seek and make a conquest of him, did you not? Do not deny it, mother--you did.” “Well, if I did?” “I succeeded! Without trying, I succeeded! He declared to me his love--he did!--he promised to marry me. He was to have married me yesterday--to have met me in church and married me. John Cross was to have performed the ceremony. Well! you saw me there--you saw me in white--the dress of a bride!--Did he come? Did you see him there? Did you see the ceremony performed?” “No, surely not--you know without asking.” “I know without asking!--surely I do!--but look you, mother--do you think that conquests are to be made, hearts won, loves confessed, pledges given, marriage-day fixed--do these things take place, as matters of pure form? Is there no sensation--no agitation--no beating and violence about the heart--in the blood--in the brain! I tell you there is--a blinding violence, a wild, stormy, sensation--fondness, forgetfulness, madness! I say, madness! madness! madness!” “Oh, my daughter, what can all this mean? Speak calmly, be deliberate!”