"It shall not need, madam," Varney was at length distinctly heard to

say. "If you please to expose my lord's important concerns and your own

to the general ear, I will not be your hindrance."

The door was unlocked and thrown open, and Janet and her father rushed

in, anxious to learn the cause of these reiterated exclamations.

When they entered the apartment Varney stood by the door grinding his

teeth, with an expression in which rage, and shame, and fear had each

their share. The Countess stood in the midst of her apartment like a

juvenile Pythoness under the influence of the prophetic fury. The veins

in her beautiful forehead started into swoln blue lines through the

hurried impulse of her articulation--her cheek and neck glowed like

scarlet--her eyes were like those of an imprisoned eagle, flashing red

lightning on the foes which it cannot reach with its talons. Were it

possible for one of the Graces to have been animated by a Fury, the

countenance could not have united such beauty with so much hatred,

scorn, defiance, and resentment. The gesture and attitude corresponded

with the voice and looks, and altogether presented a spectacle which was

at once beautiful and fearful; so much of the sublime had the energy

of passion united with the Countess Amy's natural loveliness. Janet,

as soon as the door was open, ran to her mistress; and more slowly, yet

with more haste than he was wont, Anthony Foster went to Richard Varney.

"In the Truth's name, what ails your ladyship?" said the former.

"What, in the name of Satan, have you done to her?" said Foster to his

friend.

"Who, I?--nothing," answered Varney, but with sunken head and sullen

voice; "nothing but communicated to her her lord's commands, which, if

the lady list not to obey, she knows better how to answer it than I may

pretend to do."

"Now, by Heaven, Janet!" said the Countess, "the false traitor lies

in his throat! He must needs lie, for he speaks to the dishonour of my

noble lord; he must needs lie doubly, for he speaks to gain ends of his

own, equally execrable and unattainable."

"You have misapprehended me, lady," said Varney, with a sulky species

of submission and apology; "let this matter rest till your passion be

abated, and I will explain all."

"Thou shalt never have an opportunity to do so," said the

Countess.--"Look at him, Janet. He is fairly dressed, hath the outside

of a gentleman, and hither he came to persuade me it was my lord's

pleasure--nay, more, my wedded lord's commands--that I should go with

him to Kenilworth, and before the Queen and nobles, and in presence of

my own wedded lord, that I should acknowledge him--HIM there--that very

cloak-brushing, shoe-cleaning fellow--HIM there, my lord's lackey,

for my liege lord and husband; furnishing against myself, Great God!

whenever I was to vindicate my right and my rank, such weapons as would

hew my just claim from the root, and destroy my character to be regarded

as an honourable matron of the English nobility!"




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