h large latticed windows,
over which roses and jasmine hung in abundance; a smooth, green lawn on
which stood a superb cedar-tree; beautiful grounds that reached down to
the river. The views from the windows were superb. It was worth anything
to stand on that green lawn and watch the sunset on the Thames.

Leone was delighted with it; she had never dreamed of a home so
beautiful. Lord Chandos furnished it with the utmost luxury, and there
the first few happy months of their life was spent. Lord Chandos did not
wish exactly that his marriage should be kept secret, but he did not
want it known to the world in general until his mother was willing to
introduce and receive his wife.

To Leone that life that opened to her was like a heaven on earth; her
husband surrounded her with "kind observances;" he purchased for her a
wardrobe that was a marvel of beauty and elegance; he found a French
lady's-maid, who understood all the duties of the toilet. What was more,
he had the best masters in London to instruct her. Her voice was one of
the finest ever heard, her taste for music so great that she was soon
proficient.

He taught her himself to ride. There was one thing singular, every
master who attended her was aware of a great hidden power within her,
they said among each other that she was something wonderful--that the
world would hear of her some day. There was an innate sense of power, a
grand dramatic instinct, a keen sense of everything beautiful, noble and
great. There were times when an electric flash of genius made them
marvel.

"It is a thousand pities," said the music-master to himself, "that she
has married a nobleman. If she had been dependent on her own exertions,
I could have made her one of the finest singers in the world."

Again, the drawing-master said:

"If I had the training of Lady Chandos I would make her the finest
artist in England."

None of them had discovered the real secret of her genius, or what was
the true fire that every now and then seemed to brighten them all as it
flashed over them.

A few weeks completely changed her; she had that keen, quick insight
into everything, that wondrous tact and intelligence which make some
women seem as though they were magicians.

When she went first to River View, she had some traces of her rustic
training. Before six weeks had passed over it had all disappeared. Lord
Chandos himself had taught her; her intonation and accent were clear and
refined, he