dy
Ilfield persuaded herself it was her duty, her absolute Christian duty,
to let Lady Chandos know what was going on. She was quite sure of the
truth of what she had to tell, and she chose a beautiful, sunshiny
afternoon for telling it. She wore a look of the greatest
importance--she seated herself quite close to Lady Marion.

"My dear Lady Chandos," she said, "I have called on the most unpleasant
business. There is something which I am quite sure I ought to tell you,
and I really do not know how. People are saying such things--you ought
to know them."

The fair, sweet face lost none of its tranquillity, none of its calm.
How could she surmise that her heart was to be stabbed by this woman's
words?

"The sayings of people trouble me but little, Lady Ilfield," she
replied, with a calm smile.

"What I have to say concerns you," she said, "concerns you very much. I
would not tell you but that I consider it my duty to do so. I told Lady
Evelyn that she, who had actually witnessed the scene, ought to be the
one to describe it, but she absolutely refused; unpleasant as the duty
is, it has fallen on me."

"What duty? what scene?" asked Lady Chandos, beginning to feel something
like alarm. "If you have anything to say, Lady Ilfield, anything to tell
me, pray speak out; I am anxious now to hear it."

Then indeed was Lady Ilfield in her glory. She hastened to tell the
story. How Captain and Lady Evelyn Blake had gone with a few friends for
a river-party, and at Ousely had seen Lord Chandos with Madame Vanira,
the great queen of song.

Lady Marion's sweet face colored with indignation. She denied it
emphatically; it was not true. She was surprised that Lady Ilfield
should repeat such a calumny.

"But, my dear Lady Chandos, it is true. I should not have repeated it if
there had been a single chance of its being a falsehood. Lady Evelyn saw
the boat fastened to a tree, your husband and Madame Vanira sat on the
river bank, and when the captain spoke to Lord Chandos he seemed quite
annoyed at being seen."

Lady Marion's fair face grew paler as she listened; the story seemed so
improbable to her.

"My husband--Lord Chandos--does not know Madame Vanira half so well as I
do," she said; "it is I who like her, nay, even love her. It is by my
invitation that madame has been to my house. Lord Chandos was introduced
to her by accident. I sought her acquaintance. If people had said she
had been out for a day on the river with me