“I was thinking of what occurred before I met Sir Brook,” said she, looking up, and with her eyes now widely opened, and a nostril distended as she spoke. “I was thinking of an incident of the morning. I have told you that when I reached the cottage where Sir Brook lived, I found that he was absent, and would not return till a late hour. Tired with my long walk from the station, I wished to sit down and rest before I had determined what to do, whether to await his arrival or go back to town. I saw the door open, I entered the little sitting-room, and found myself face to face with Major Trafford.” “Lionel Trafford?” “Yes; he had come by that morning's packet from England, and gone straight out to see his friend.” “He was alone, was he?” “Alone! there was no one in the house but ourselves.” Sewell shrugged his shoulders, and said, “Go on.” The insult of his gesture sent the blood to her face and forehead, and for an instant she seemed too much overcome by anger to speak. “Am I to tell you what this man said to me? Is _that_ what you mean?” said she, in a voice that almost hissed with passion. “Better not, perhaps,” replied he, calmly, “if the very recollection overcame you so completely.” “That is to say, it is better I should bear the insult how I may than reveal it to one who will not resent it.” “When you say resent, do you intend I should call him out?--fight him?” “If I were the husband instead of the wife, it is what I should do,--ay,” cried she, wildly, “and thank Fortune that gave me the chance.” “I don't think I'm going to show any such gratitude,” said he, with a cold grin. “If he made love to you, I take it he fancied you had given him some encouragement When you showed him that he was mistaken, he met his punishment. A woman always knows how to make a man look like a confounded fool at such a moment.” “And is that enough?” “Is _what_ enough?” “I ask, is it enough to make him look like a confounded fool? Will _that_ soothe a wife's insulted pride, or avenge a husband's injured honor?” “I don't know much of the wife's part; but as to the husband's share in the matter, if I had to fight every fellow who made up to you, my wedding garment ought to have been a suit of chain-armor.” “A husband need not fight for his wife's flirtations; be-. sides, he can make her give these up if he likes. There are insults, however, that a man”--; and she said the word with a fierce emphasis--“resents with the same instinct that makes him defend his life.” “I know well enough what he 'd say; he 'd say that there was nothing serious in it, that he was merely indulging in that sort of larking talk one offers to a pretty woman who does not seem to dislike it. The chances are he 'd turn the tables a bit, and say that you rather led him on than repressed him.” “And would these pleas diminish your desire to have his heart's blood?” cried she, wild with passion and indignation together.