He had loved her sincerely, and had by no means ceased to love her now.

But such double and treble barrelled hearts were naturally beyond her conception.
Of poor Suke Damson, Grace thought no more.

She had had her day.
"If he does not love me I will not love him!" said Grace, proudly.

And though these were mere words, it was a somewhat formidable thing for Fitzpiers that her heart was approximating to a state in which it might be possible to carry them out.

That very absence of hot jealousy which made his courses so easy, and on which, indeed, he congratulated himself, meant, unknown to either wife or husband, more mischief than the inconvenient watchfulness of a jaundiced eye.
Her sleep that night was nervous.