with a sinking heart, but growing every moment more indignant and
disgusted with what appeared to her only a horrible and senseless
mockery, was obliged to respond to hundreds of congratulations and
bear in silence being addressed as Mrs. Correlli.

It galled her almost beyond endurance--it was torture beyond
description to her proud and sensitive spirit to be thus associated
with one for whom she had no respect, and who had made himself all the
more obnoxious by lending himself to the deception which had just been
practiced upon her.

Once, when there was a little pause, she turned haughtily upon the man
at her side.

"Why am I addressed thus?" she demanded.

"Why do you allow it? Why do you not correct these people and tell
them to use the name that was used in the play rather than yours?"

The man grew white about the lips at these questions.

"Perhaps they forget--I--I suppose it seems more natural to address me
by my name," he faltered.

"I do not like it--I will not submit to it a moment longer," Edith
indignantly returned.

"Hush! it is almost over," said her companion, in a swift whisper, as
others came forward just then, and she was obliged, though rebellious
and heart-sick, to submit to the ordeal.

But it was over at last, for, as the introductions were made, the
guests passed back to the carriage-house, which had been cleared for
dancing, and where the musicians were discoursing alluring strains in
rhythmic measure.

Even the bridesmaids and ushers, tempted by the sounds, at last
deserted their posts, and Emil Correlli and his victim were finally
left alone, the sole occupants of the drawing-room.

"Will you come and dance?" he inquired, as he turned a pleading look
upon her. "Just once, to show that you forgive me for what I have done
to-night."

"No, I cannot," said Edith, coldly and wearily. "I am going directly
upstairs to divest myself of this mocking finery as soon as possible."

A swift, hot flush suffused Emil Correlli's face, at these words.

"Pray do not speak so bitterly and slightingly of what has made you,
in my eyes at least, the most beautiful woman in this house to-night,"
he said, with a look of passionate yearning in his eyes.

"Flattery from you, sir, after what has occurred, is, to speak mildly,
exceedingly unbecoming," Edith haughtily responded and turned proudly
away from him as if about to leave the room.

But, at that moment, Mr. Goddard, who had not presented hims