She paused and looked at him--disdainfully, and careless as to what he might have to say in this her final interview with him--and they, doing as she did, paused also. Then he continued, still speaking hoarsely but clearly enough: "You have said, madam, that you renounce and deny me for ever; that you are resolved never more to share my rank or title, nor again to bear my name. Are you so certain that 'tis yours to so refuse or so renounce at your good will and pleasure?" "What, sir, do you mean by such questions?" asked Sir Charles Ames, speaking now for the first time. But Lord Fordingbridge, heeding him not, continued to address her, and now, as he spoke, he raised his hand and pointed his finger at her. "You have been very scornful, very cold and disdainful since first we came together, madam, treating me ever to your most bitter dislike, while all the time every thought and idea of yours was given to another man--all the time, I say, while you continued to bear the title of the Viscountess Fordingbridge. Once more, I ask, are you so sure that this title was yours to fling away, the husband yours to renounce and deny in your own good pleasure?" And his eyes glared at her now as he spoke, and she knew that the devil which dwelt in him had got possession. "Be more explicit," she said, "or cease to speak at all. If I could think, if I could awake as from an evil dream and learn that I had never been your wife, never plighted troth with you, I would upon my knees thank God for such a mercy." "Those thanks may be more due than you dream of. How if I were to tell you----?" "What?" fell from the lips of all, while Douglas took a step nearer to him, and Sir Charles felt sure that in another moment they would be told of some earlier marriage. "What?" For answer he went on, one finger raised and pointing at her as though to emphasize his remarks: "You have taunted me often with the Jesuit education I received at St. Omer--at Lisbon. Well, it was true: such an education I did receive at both places. Only, madam--my Lady Fordingbridge!--Miss Fane!--have you never heard that one so educated may, at such places, receive other things? may become acolytes, priests? What if _I_ became such? what would you then be--a priest----?" "It is a lie!" she exclaimed, "and you know it." "Are you so sure? Can you prove--or, rather, _disprove_ it? Answer me that--answer, if you are sure that you share my name and rank--have power to renounce them." As he finished, Douglas sprang at him and, in spite of his drawn sword, would have choked the life out of him on the spot had not Sir Charles interceded, while at the same moment Kitty's voice was heard bidding him desist. "Even so," she said, "true or untrue, it is best. The infamy, if infamy there is, must be borne. At least, I am free. Free! Am justified after these hints!"