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Updated: June 6, 2025
"I tell you for the last time, my lady," said Malcolm, "if you marry that man, you will marry a liar and a scoundrel." Liftore laughed, and his imitation of scorn was wonderfully successful, for he felt sure of Florimel, now that she had thus taken his part. "Shall I ring for the servants, Lady Lossie, to put the fellow out?" he said. "The man is as mad as a March hare."
Scarcely however had the poor girl, trembling at the evident displeasure the sight of her caused in Florimel, opened her mouth to answer her haughty inquiry as to her business, when Lord Liftore, daring an entrance without warning, opened the door behind her, and, almost as he opened it, began his apology.
To associate the name of Liftore with his would be to blot the scutcheon of Lossie. He is not fit to walk the street with men: his touch is to you an utter degradation. My lady, in the name of your father, I beg a word with you in private." "You insult me." "I beg of you, my lady for your own dear sake." "Once more I order you to leave my house, and never set foot in it again."
Off with you!" cried Malcolm, as he leaped at her head. "She'll be on her back in a moment." Liftore only clung the harder. Malcolm caught her head just in time: she was already falling backwards. "Let all go, my lord. Throw yourself off." He swung her towards him with all his strength, and just as his lordship fell off behind her, she fell sideways to Malcolm, and clear of Liftore.
Lenorme smiled grimly. "You wouldn't mind, would you, Raoul?" added Florimel, with a roguish look. "Would you mind telling me, Florimel, what you mean by the impropriety of having secrets with another gentleman? Am I the other gentleman?" "Why, of course! You know Liftore imagined he has only to name the day." "And you allow an idiot like that to cherish such a degrading idea of you."
Florimel gave a great sigh of delight. But what did it what could it mean? What was Malcolm about? Where was he taking her? What would London say to such an escapade extraordinary? Lady Bellair would be the first to believe she had run away with her groom she knew so many instances of that sort of thing! and Lord Liftore would be the next. It was too bad of Malcolm!
"My lady, I am sorrier than you think; but which is worse that you should hear such a thing spoken of, or make a friend of the man who did it and that is Lord Liftore?" Florimel turned away, and gave her seeming attention to the moonlit waters, sweeping past the swift sailing cutter. Malcolm's heart ached for her: he thought she was deeply troubled. But she was not half so shocked as he imagined.
Breakfast was hardly over, when Liftore walked in, looking pale, and, in spite of his faultless get up, somewhat disreputable: for shame, secret pain, and anger do not favour a good carriage or honest mien. Florimel threw herself back in her chair an action characteristic of the bold faced countess, and held out her left hand to him in an expansive, benevolent sort of way.
His lordship came flying after her, and his groom after him, but she kept increasing her pace until they were all at full stretch, thundering over the grass upon which Malcolm had at once turned Kelpie, giving her little rein and plenty of spur. Gradually Florimel slackened speed, and at last pulled up suddenly. Liftore and his groom went past her like the wind.
The fact was she had said one o'clock to Liftore, intending twelve, that she might get away without him. Kelpie seemed on her good behaviour, and they started quietly enough. By the time they had got out of the park upon the Kensington Road, however, the evil spirit had begun to wake in her.
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