The beauty received him with unrestrained joy; but in the conversation that ensued, reverted to what she called “The intrigues of that low born manœuverer, Miss Kavanagh,” asking him if he had not observed a great change in Mrs. Clifton, ascribable entirely to her influence? It gave Major Clifton great pain to hear Catherine traduced in this manner, but he believed Mrs. Georgia to be perfectly sincere in her opinion, and only the victim of a mistake. He told the lady so, adding— “I am about to give Miss Kavanagh the highest proof of confidence that one being can give another. I am about to take her for my life’s bosom friend. We shall be married in five days.” Had a bullet sped through her heart, she could not have given a more agonized bound. Then she struck both hands to her temples, started hastily half across the floor, paused again as if distracted, and suddenly cried out— “You shall not do it! By my soul, you shall not do it! You never, never shall become the dupe of that woman! I have entered the lists with her. I mean, that to save you, I have done so, and before I leave them, I will prove her false and treacherous. God show the right!” Major Clifton gazed upon her in wonder. The strong emotion that she had exhibited, imposed upon him, for there was no doubting its _reality_; and far from suspecting its _cause_, an unhallowed passion for himself, he ascribed it solely to her strong conviction of Catherine’s unworthiness, and to her disinterested regard for his own welfare. And when she came and threw herself upon the sofa beside him, and besought, with all the eloquence that passion and the demon could lend her, that he would pause and not hurry on to his ruin, his confidence in Catherine’s integrity was shaken to the foundation. And when at the end of an hour he rode home, he reached Hardbargain as miserable as the doubt of one beloved can make a man. If love has the Divine power of transfiguring its object until faults are excellencies, suspicion possesses the demoniac faculty of deforming its victim until virtues seem vices, and under its influence the highest and best gifts of the maiden, her intellect, virtues, and graces were turned against her; her talent seemed intriguing art; her meekness and humility became meanness and sycophancy; her piety, hypocrisy; and her girlish shyness the sinister reserve of conscious guilt. It was well that on his return he met Catherine only in his mother’s presence, where deep regard for the lady constrained him into something like forbearance; though even then his moody manner excited some uneasiness in the bosoms of the two ladies. When Catherine left the room to order dinner, the conversation that ensued tended to strengthen his newly revived suspicions. Mrs. Clifton told him, that with his consent she would like to leave the farm of Hardbargain to Catherine, as a testimony of her esteem and affection.