She talked with him of indifferent things for more than an hour, still watching to see if he would tell her of his own accord.
When she was quite sure he would not, she said, "Do you know there's a ridiculous report about that you are going to be married ?" "Indeed!" "They even tell her name--Miss Bruce.

Do you know the girl ?" "Yes." "Is she pretty ?" "Very." "Modest ?" "As an angel." "And are you going to marry her ?" "Yes." "Then you are a villain." "The deuce I am!" "You are, to abandon a woman who has sacrificed all for you." Sir Charles looked puzzled, and then smiled; but was too polite to give his thoughts vent.

Nor was it necessary; Miss Somerset, whose brave eyes never left the person she was speaking to, fired up at the smile alone, and she burst into a torrent of remonstrance, not to say vituperation.

Sir Charles endeavored once or twice to stop it, but it was not to be stopped; so at last he quietly took up his hat, to go.
He was arrested at the door by a rustle and a fall.

He turned round, and there was Miss Somerset lying on her back, grinding her white teeth and clutching the air.
He ran to the bell and rang it violently, then knelt down and did his best to keep her from hurting herself; but, as generally happens in these cases, his interference made her more violent.