"Then what I look I will speak," returned Kate, with sudden boldness. "Georgina, if she does care for you, is not a woman to give away her heart unasked. I have known and loved her all my life--that she is not indifferent to you, is, in my eyes, incontrovertible proof that you endeavoured to win her affections. It is no disgrace to a woman," continued Kate, with encreasing boldness, "to give the heart that seems so ardently sought. No; the truer the purer--the nobler it is--the more incapable it is of conceiving the gratuitous treason that betrays it. I do not see why I should attempt to conceal the fact that I fear my cousin once loved you--with you rests the reproach; but do you suppose that I am so unreal as to trust you--to believe that a passing admiration could so change your spirit, as to teach it sympathy with mine? that your treachery to one woman would be a guarantee of good faith to another? No, my Lord! I am made of different stuff. Do not, for a moment, imagine it is in your power to cause disunion between two such tried friends as my cousin and myself--we know each other's truth--we know it is worth too much to be lightly cast aside." She paused; and Lord Effingham, whose varied colour had settled into deadly paleness, rose, and paced the room in silence, before replying-- "You are a stern judge, Miss Vernon," he said, at length, in the deep tone of concentrated anger. "I little thought the indulgence of a harmless whim would have been so severely visited upon me. Listen, fair and rigid exposer of my follies," he continued, sneeringly. "The secret of your just severity may be summed up thus--you do not love me; therefore, the conduct you so eloquently denounce, is unextenuated by the softening consideration that it was you--your own irresistible attractions--that made me a traitor. Your indifference, perhaps your pre-occupation, lends a magnifying power to your moral sense, and I am condemned; where--circumstances slightly changed--I might have been cherished. Enough; I am satisfied there is no chance of my winning your affections. I will not, therefore, degrade myself or weary you with vain efforts." He stopped opposite to her, silently for a minute, his arms folded, his eyes fixed on her face. "I wish to God I had known you long ago, Kate--that I had met you first. How is it, that with rank, and riches, and power here--" and he touched his forehead, "all rare gifts--I have so often missed the road to happiness." Kate, moved by the tone of despondency with which this was asked, replied hesitatingly-- "Perhaps--because you never knew where to look for it." "And will you not direct me?" said the Earl, with intense earnestness. Kate shook her head in silent refusal. He gazed at her still for an instant, and then, taking her hand, said-- "In all probability, we shall never meet again. You have acted in accordance with your character--I, with mine." And, turning away, he left the house.