ht her home."

"It is a falsehood!" raved Sibylla. "You are carrying on a secret
intimacy with each other. I have been blind long enough, but--"

Lionel caught her arm, pointing in stern silence to the drawing-room
door, which was not closed, his white face betraying his inward
agitation.

"She is there!" he whispered. "She can hear you."

But Sibylla's passion was terrible--not to be controlled. All the
courtesies of life were lost sight of--its social usages were as
nothing. She flung Lionel's hand away from her.

"I hope she can hear me!" broke like a torrent from her trembling lips.
"It is time she heard, and others also! I have been blind, I say, long
enough. But for papa, I might have gone on in my blindness to the end."

How was he to stop it? That Lucy must hear every word as plainly as he
did, he knew; words that fell upon his ear, and blistered them. There
was no egress for her--no other door--she was there in a cage, as may be
said. He did what was the best to be done under the circumstances; he
walked into the presence of Lucy, leaving Sibylla to herself.

At least it might have been the best in some cases. It was not in this.
Sibylla, lost in that moment to all sense of the respect due to herself,
to her husband, to Lucy, allowed her wild fancies, her passion, to
over-master everything; and she followed him in. Her eyes blazing, her
cheeks aflame, she planted herself in front of Lucy.

"Are you not ashamed of yourself, Lucy Tempest, to wile my husband from
me?"

Lucy looked perfectly aghast. That she thought Mrs. Verner had suddenly
gone mad, may be excused to her. A movement of fear escaped her, and
she drew involuntary nearer to Lionel, as if for protection.

"No! you shan't go to him! There has been enough of it. You shall not
side with him against me! He is my husband! How dare you forget it! You
are killing me amongst you."

"I--don't--know--what--you--mean, Mrs. Verner," gasped Lucy, the words
coming in jerks from her bloodless lips.

"Can you deny that he cares for you more than he does for me? That you
care for him in return? Can not you--"!

"Be silent, Sibylla!" burst forth Lionel. "Do you know that you are
speaking to Miss Tempest?"

"I won't be silent!" she reiterated, her voice rising to a scream. "Who
is Lucy Tempest that you should care for her? You know you do! and you
know that you meant to marry her once! Is it--"

Pushing his wife on a chair, though gently, with one arm,