The same post which brought Vivian this woman’s deposition and Russell’s letter brought Mrs. Wharton notice that the whole plan of collusion was discovered: she was therefore prepared for Vivian’s reproaches, and received the first burst of his astonishment and indignation with a studied Magdalen expression of countenance: then she attempted a silly apology, laying all the blame on her husband, and vowing that she had acted under terror, and that her life would not have been safe in his hands if she had not implicitly obeyed and executed his horrid plans. She wept and kneeled in vain. Finding Vivian immoveable in his purpose to return immediately to England, she suddenly rose from her knees, and, all beautiful as she was, looked in Vivian’s eyes like a fiend, whilst, with an unnatural smile, she said to him, “You see, fool as I am thought to be, I have been too clever for _some people_; and I can tell Mr. Wharton that I have been too clever for him too. His heart is set upon a divorce; but he can’t have it. He can’t marry Miss P----, nor yet her fortune, nor ever shall! I shall remain at Brussels--I have friends here--and friends who were my friends before I was forced to give my hand to Mr. Wharton, or my smiles to you, sir!--people who will not tease me with talking of remorse and repentance, and such ungallant, ungentlemanlike stuff; nor sit bewailing themselves, like a country parson, instead of dashing out with me here in a fashionable style, as a man of any spirit would have done. But you!--you’re neither good nor bad; and no woman will ever love you, nor ever did. Now you know my whole mind.” “Would to Heaven I had known it sooner!” said Vivian. “No--I rejoice that I did not sooner know, and that I never could have suspected, such depravity!--under such a form, too.” Mrs. Wharton’s eye glanced with satisfaction upon the large mirror opposite to her. Vivian left her in utter disgust and horror. “Drive on!” cried he, as he threw himself into the chaise that was to carry him away; “Faster! faster!”