creature living shall
interfere with my fate or destiny."

She tried hard--and she was a woman of wonderful resource--she tried
hard to keep her dignity, not to fail or falter before him, the cold
emissary of that cruel mother; but unutterable woe looked out of her
eyes at him, her white face had on it the passion of despair, her voice
the ring of anguish, the small white hands on which the wedding-ring
shone, trembled like leaves stirred in the summer wind; the very
repression of her passionate despair made it seem more terrible. He
clearly explained to her her position at last, she must consent to an
immediate separation from Lord Chandos; she must give up his name, leave
the shelter of his roof, or men and women, too, would brand her with the
scarlet letter--would look on her as one lost and dead to all sense of
honor.

"You will see for yourself," added the lawyer, "that the wisest and best
plan is for you to go away at once--this very day even--then you will
stand a better chance when next June comes. Even one more day spent
under this roof would be fatal to your character and reputation. You
must go at once."

Once more she raised her despairing eyes to him. Her voice trembled as
though it were all tears.

"Tell me," she said, gently, "has this been done by Lady Lanswell's
desire more than by the earl's?"

"Yes, I believe it is so," he said.

Leone continued:

"If the countess relented now, and gave her consent, could we be legally
married at once?"

"If the earl and countess consent you could be remarried to-day. Nothing
is wanted but their permission."

"Thank you," she said, gently. Then with pathos and dignity that touched
him greatly she held out her hand to him. "I do not blame you for the
message you have brought," she said; "the fault lies with Lady Lanswell
and the English law, not with you. You have fulfilled your mission as
kindly as you could. I forgive you what you have done and what you have
said."

The white lips closed firmly, no other sound came from them, but Mr.
Sewell looked back as he closed the door, and she lay then with her face
on the floor. He did not go to her; he thought it was better to leave
her alone. He said to himself, as he quitted the house, that not for all
the wealth of the Lanswells would he pass through another such scene.

The hour came in which she raised her face once again to the sunlight,
and tried to realize what had happened. She had risen that morning t