Lady Bellair was astounded, mortified, enraged. Liftore turned grey
with passion, then livid with mortification, at the news. Not one
of all their circle, as Florimel had herself foreseen, doubted for
a moment that she had run away with that groom of hers. Indeed,
upon examination, it became evident that the scheme had been for
some time in hand: the yacht they had gone on board had been lying
there for months; and although she was her own mistress, and might
marry whom she pleased, it was no wonder she had run away, for how
could she have held her face to it, or up after it?
Lady Clementina accepted the general conclusion, but judged it
individually. She had more reason to be distressed at what seemed
to have taken place than anyone else; indeed it stung her to the
heart, wounding her worse than in its first stunning effects she was
able to know; yet she thought better rather than worse of Florimel
because of it. What she did not like in her with reference to the
affair was the depreciatory manner in which she had always spoken
of Malcolm. If genuine, it was quite inconsistent with due regard
for the man for whom she was yet prepared to sacrifice so much;
if, on the other hand, her slight opinion of his judgment was a
pretence, then she had been disloyal to the just prerogatives of
friendship.
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