It was a desperate struggle for Amy to sit still and endure this; the colour came and went in her cheeks, and her heart beat at a fever rate, and then seemed to stop altogether; but still she sat in her chair, and gave but slight indication of the sharpness of the poisoned shafts which made such a sensible impression upon her. The humiliation of bargaining for the maintenance of a secret from her husband--a secret that might possibly break off an alliance which she had done so much to encompass. But he would not believe it? And if he did, she could tell him that all that silly passion was at an end. These thoughts passed through her mind much more rapidly than the printer’s type has conveyed them to the reader; but she made no sign. “Shall I ride over to Montem, or return to town? If I go to town you will hear no more from me, at all events until the marriage is over, unless you would like me to give you away.” This was another sting; it reminded Amy of her helpless and forlorn position, and as she glanced at the fine manly form of her brother, a pang of honest regret that they were so fearfully sundered, shot through her heart, and almost brought the tears into her eyes. “I think we understand each other,” said Mr. Tallant, as though this suspense made him uncomfortable. “Yes,” said Miss Tallant. “I am sorry to feel that I understand you, Richard Tallant.” It required no considerable effort for Amy to maintain her calmness, though she had lately set up in her own way for a very clever actress; but she did not break down. She rang the bell, ordered luncheon for Mr. Richard Tallant, and desiring that gentleman to give her half an hour to consider his request, withdrew and sought her own room. “Ha!” exclaimed Mr. Richard Tallant when she had gone, “a devilish good fight she made of it: there’s no mistake about her parentage; if anything had been wanting to prove our relationship, this interview would clinch it.” Mr. Tallant thereupon walked up to the mantel-piece, contemplated himself, stroked his beard, and apostrophised his counterfeit. “You must be an infernal blackguard, Richard Tallant, Esq., to work such an infernal scheme as this against a woman! Upon my soul I believe you are a bad fellow, a deuced bad fellow. How is it, my friend, you are such a rascal? You had a fine opportunity once. I believe that thief Gibbs ruined you, eh? Perhaps; perhaps not. But you have been put to some tightish shifts, have you not, my friend, none tighter than this? When a fellow can see his way out of certain ruin by a bit of meanness, or whatever you like to call it, the temptation is very great--is it not? Ha, well, it’s a wicked world, a wicked world. You ought to have been the proprietor of this place, my friend: well, never mind; you must manage to do with a part of it, eh? Yes, with a part of it: half a loaf, you know.” “Half a loaf did you say?” asked the quick-eared servant who had just entered with a tray. “Yes, sir--white or brown?”