tyrant he is; she has
opened my eyes. And not for himself, no, for his revenge on me, for my
name to be as my face is. He tossed me to his dogs; fair game for them!
You do well, Janey; he is capable of any villany. And has been calling
at Livia's door twice a day, inquiring anxiously; begs the first
appointment possible. He has no shame; he is accustomed to buy men and
women; he thinks his money will buy my pardon, give my face a new skin,
perhaps. A woman swears to you, Janey, by all she holds holy on earth,
it is not the loss of her beauty--there will be a wrinkled patch on
the cheek for life, the surgeon says; I am to bear a brown spot, like
a bruised peach they sell at the fruit-shops cheap. Chillon's Riette!
I think of that, the miserable wife I am for him without the beauty he
loved so! I think of myself as guilty, a really guilty woman, when I
compare my loss with my husband's.'

'Your accident, dearest Riette--how it happened?' Carinthia said,
enfolding her.

'Because, Janey, what have I ever been to Chillon but the good-looking
thing he was proud of? It's gone. Oh, the accident. Brailstone had
pushed little Corby away; he held my hand, kept imploring, he wanted the
usual two minutes, and all to warn me against--I've told you; and he
saw Lord Fleetwood coming. I got my hand free, and stepped back, my head
spinning; and I fell. That I recollect, and a sight of flames, like the
end of the world. I fell on one of the oil-lamps bordering the grass; my
veil lighted; I had fainted; those two men saw nothing but one another;
and little Sir Meeson was no help; young Lord Cressett dashed out the
flames. They brought me to my senses for a second swoon. Livia says I
woke moaning to be taken away from that hated Calesford. It was, oh!
never to see that husband of yours again. Forgive him, if you can. Not
I. I carry the mark of him to my grave. I have called myself "Skin-deep"
ever since, day and night--the name I deserve.'

'We will return to Chillon together, my own,' said Carinthia. 'It may
not be so bad.' And in the hope that her lovely sister exaggerated a
defacement leaving not much worse than a small scar, her heart threw
off its load of the recent perplexities, daylight broke through her dark
wood. Henrietta brought her liberty. How far guilty her husband might
be, she was absolved from considering; sufficiently guilty to release
her. Upon that conclusion, pity for the awakened Riette shed purer
tear-drops through