After her last jewel, she might dispose of her
dresses. It was on a moonlight night in spring that she came to this
determination; and, as Ned had gone out in a mood apparently presaging
a long absence, she set about packing her clothes into her trunks, so
as to take them with her when she left by hackney-coach at early
daylight to seek new lodgings.
Suddenly she heard the door below slam with a familiar violence, and a
well-known heavy tread ascend the stairs. There was no time to conceal
what she was at, ere Ned flung open the door, and stumbled in. He
stared in amazement at her trunks and dresses.
"What's this?" he cried. "Why is all this trash lying around? Why,
damme, you're packing your trunks!"
She had passed the mood for dissembling. "Well," she retorted, "I may
pack my trunks if I please. They're my trunks, and my things in 'em."
"What! You thankless hussy, were you going to run away?"
"'Tis no concern of yours, what I was going to do!"
"Oh, isn't it? We'll see about that! Begad, 'tis lucky I came back! So
you were going to desert me, eh? Well, I'm damned if there was ever
such ingratitude! After all I've done and suffered!"
[Illustration: "HE FINALLY DREW BACK TO GIVE HER A MORE EFFECTUAL
BLOW."]
She gave a derisive laugh, and defiantly resumed her packing.
"What! you're rebellious, are you?" quoth he. "But you'll not get away
from me so easy, my lady.
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