liberately, got up, and stood with his back to
the fire. She looked up at him curiously. But the dark regular face was
almost hidden from her.

'It is strange,' he said slowly; 'very strange--that you should have
told me this at this moment! Miss Leyburn, a great deal of the truth
about Madame Desforets I could neither tell, nor could you hear. There
are charges against her proved in open court, again and again, which I
could not even mention in your presence. But one thing I can speak of.
Do you know the story of the sister at St. Petersburg?'

'I know no stories against Madame Desforets,' said Rose loftily, her
quickened breath responding to the energy of his tone. 'I have always
chosen not to know them.'

'The newspapers were full of this particular story just before
Christmas. I should have thought it must have reached you.'

'I did not see it,' she replied stiffly; 'and I cannot see what good
purpose is to be served by your repeating it to me, Mr. Langham.'

Langham could have smiled at her petulance, if he had not for once been
determined and in earnest.

'You will let me tell it, I hope?' he said quietly. 'I will tell it so
that it shall not offend your ears. As it happens, I myself thought it
incredible at the time. But, by an odd coincidence, it has just this
afternoon been repeated to me by a man who was an eyewitness of part of
it.'

Rose was silent. Her attitude Was _hauteur_ itself, but she made no
further active opposition.

'Three months ago--' he began, speaking with some difficulty, but still
with a suppressed force of feeling which amazed his hearer-'Madame
Desforets was acting in St. Petersburg. She had with her a large
company, and among them her own young sister, Elise Romey, a girl of
eighteen. This girl had been always kept away from Madame Desforets by
her parents, who had never been sufficiently consoled by their eldest
daughter's artistic success for the infamy of her life.'

Rose started indignantly. Langham gave her no time to speak.

'Elise Romey, however, had developed a passion for the stage. Her
parents were respectable--and you know young girls in France are brought
up strictly. She knew next to nothing of her sister's escapades. But
she knew that she was held to be the greatest actress in Europe--the
photographs in the shops told her that she was beautiful. She conceived
a romantic passion for the woman whom she had last seen when she was a
child of five, and actuated partly