But as her voice grew hushed, and she relaxed her hold, he turned and said, "Miss Neville, you love this man?" "Oh, no, no, no!" replied Amy, now fairly sobbing. "Then why this interest in him? Why seek to palliate his conduct, base as I believe it to be?" "I would not, if I thought it base, but--but I do not. I am but a poor ignorant girl, but I implore you, for your wife's sake--your own sake, do nothing rashly." "I will not. I am calm again--as calm as you wish; but this must be sifted to the very core, must be explained till all is as clear as the moon, which shines so brightly through that half-darkened window. No half measures will satisfy me. I must not only be convinced, but feel so. You say he is pleading his love for another--entreating _her_ good will in his behalf. Be it so. Then who is this other?" He was quiet now, very quiet; with a firm, gloomy determination from which there could be no escape, no loophole to creep out of. All must be as clear as day. He had stood his wife's heartless conduct too long, he would stand it no longer. No half measures, as before, would now satisfy that angry husband, with the demon jealousy roused in his heart--that stern yet loving heart. Alas! this jealousy, what mischief it causes. What hearts it sunders and wounds with its fierce stabs; and how powerless are most to rise above it or shake off its strong iron grasp. If once allowed to enter our hearts it is an enemy difficult to contend with; still more difficult to get rid of, for although only a small corner may be taken possession of or unwillingly granted it at first, yet in time what a much larger portion becomes its share. "Who is this other?" again asked Mr. Linchmore, more gently. "I cannot tell," replied Amy. "I am willing to believe, Miss Neville, it is as you say; but there must be no more trifling or prevarication, matters have become too serious for that. This other you speak of. Who is she? I _must_ know; and if this man's heart is capable of love, and she loves him," and he looked fixedly at Amy, and spoke more slowly as if wishing her to weigh well every word, "then let her be his wife; if she wills it so; but--it will be to her sorrow." "You cannot tell that," replied Amy, seeing he waited for her to speak. "He may love her with all his heart." "He may. But what is all his heart when he is so ready to trifle with others? Miss Neville," and his voice was still more gentle, and very pitying in its tone; "you are alone, perhaps feel alone in this house, and are young, very young to be so thrown upon the world, which you find a cold and desolate one, I have no doubt. _He_ has been ever kind and courteous. I fear too much so, and I do not wonder he has created an interest in your heart, and at last won it. But he must not be allowed to trifle with it while I stand by. No. It shall never be!"