The wretched man stared helplessly at her for one brief moment when
she had concluded, then a cry of despair burst from him.

"Oh, God! I knew it! You--you are Isabel?"

"Yes."

"Then you were not--you did not--"

"Die? No," was the brief response; but the beautiful eyes looking so
steadily into his seemed to burn into his very soul.

A mighty shudder shook Gerald Goddard from head to foot as he reeled
backward and leaned against the wall for support.

"Oh, God!" he cried again, in a voice of agony; then his head dropped
heavily upon his breast.

His companion gazed silently upon him for a minute; then, turning, she
brushed by him without a word and went on into the dressing-room for
her wraps.

Presently she came forth again, enveloped from head to foot in a long
garment richly lined with fur, the scarlet lining of the hood
contrasting beautifully with her clear, flawless complexion and her
brown eyes.

Gerald Goddard still stood where she had left him.

She would have passed him without a word, but he put out a trembling
hand to detain her.

"Isabel!" he faltered.

"Mrs. Stewart, if you please," she corrected, in a cold, proud tone.

"Ha! you have married again!" he exclaimed, with a start, while he
searched her face with a despairing look.

"Married again?" she repeated, with curling lips. "I have not so
perjured myself."

"But--but--"'

"Yes, I know what you would say," she interposed, with a proud little
gesture; "nevertheless, I claim the matron's title, and 'Stewart' was
my mother's maiden name," and she was about to pass on again.

"Stay!" said the man, nervously. "I--I must see you again--I must talk
further with you."

"Very well," the lady coldly returned, "and I also have some things
which I wish to say to you. I shall be at the Copley Square Hotel on
Thursday afternoon. I will see you as early as you choose to call."

Then, with an air of grave dignity, she passed on, and down the
stairs, without casting one backward glance at him.

The man leaned over the balustrade and watched her.

She moved like a queen.

In the hall below she was joined by her attendant, whom she welcomed
with a ravishing smile, and the next moment they had passed out of the
house together.

"Heavens! and I deserted that glorious woman for--a virago!" Gerald
Goddard muttered, hoarsely, as he strode, white and wretched, to his
room.

CHAPTER XVI.

"YOU SHALL NEVER WANT FOR A FRIEND."

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