"You do hate him, Miss Holland?" asked she, joyfully.
"I hate him, and I have come to league myself with you against him.
He is a traitor, a perfidious wretch, a perjurer. I will take
vengeance for my disgrace!"
"Ah, has he then deserted you also?"
"He has deserted me also."
"Well, then, God be praised!" cried the duchess, and her face beamed
with joy. "God is great and just; and He has punished you with the
same weapons with which you sinned! For your sake, he deserted me;
and for the sake of another woman, he forsakes you."
"Not so, my lady!" said Miss Holland, proudly. "A woman like me is
not forsaken on account of a woman; and he who loves me will love no
other after me. There, read his letter!"
She handed the duchess her husband's letter.
"And what do you want to do now?" asked the duchess, after she had
read it.
"I will have revenge, my lady! He says he no longer has a heart to
love; well, now, we will so manage, that he may no longer have a
head to think. Will you be my ally, my lady?
I will."
"And I also will be," said the Duchess of Richmond, who just then
opened the door and came out of the adjoining room.
Not a word of this entire conversation had escaped her, and she very
well understood that the question was not about some petty
vengeance, but her father's head. She knew that Miss Holland was not
a woman that, when irritated, pricked with a pin; but one that
grasped the dagger to strike her enemy a mortal blow.
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