ntered the most beautiful girl she had
ever beheld--tall, slender, graceful, exquisitely dressed, moving with
the most perfect grace and harmony; her face like some grand, passionate
poem--a girl lovely as a houri, who walked up to her with serene and
queenly calm, saying:

"Lady Lanswell, I am your son's wife."

The countess, taken so entirely by surprise, looked long and keenly into
that beautiful face--looked at the clear, bright eyes, so full of fire
and passion--at the lovely, imperial mouth, and the whole face so full
of tragedy and beauty; then in a clear, distinct voice, she answered:

"My son has no wife."

Leone drew the glove from her left hand, holding it before my lady's
eyes.

"Will you look at my wedding-ring?" she asked.

A scornful smile played round my lady's lips.

"I see a ring," she said, "but not a wedding-ring. There can be no
wedding-ring where there is no marriage."

"Do you believe that marriages are known in Heaven?" Leone asked. "Do
you believe that if a marriage had been contracted in the presence of
Heaven, witnessed by the angels, do you suppose that a mere legal
quibble can set it aside?"

"You choose your arguments badly," said the countess. "If you appeal to
Heaven, so can I. One of the greatest commandments given from there
says, 'Children, obey your parents.' My son is commanded by a divine
voice to obey me, and I forbid him to marry until he is of age."

"You have not the power!" cried Leone.

"You are mistaken; not only the power is mine, but I have used it. The
foolish ceremony you choose to call your marriage is already set aside."

Leone drew one step nearer to her with flashing eyes.

"You know that in your heart you cannot believe it. You cannot think
it," she cried. "You know that I am your son's wife. You have brought
the great strong arm of the law upon me. You have taken from me my
husband's name. Yet neither you, nor any human power can make me less
his wife. He married me," she continued, her eyes flashing, her face
flushing, "he married me before God, and I say that you cannot undo that
marriage. I defy you."

"True, I could not undo it, but the law both can and has done so.
Half-educated young ladies, who wish to make such grand marriages,
should have common sense first. No youth under age, like my son, can
legally marry without the consent of his parents."

The flush faded from the beautiful face, and gave place to a white
horror. Leone looked at the