again."

Lord Chandos grew deadly pale as he heard the words.

"And I say that you wrong a good and blameless woman, Marion, when you
say such words."

"My lord, am I or am I not at liberty to choose my friends?" she asked,
haughtily.

"Certainly you are at liberty to do just as you please in that respect,"
he replied.

"Then among them I decline to receive Madame Vanira," she said.

"As you refuse to see my friends, I must go to meet them," said Lord
Chandos.

And then between husband and wife began one of those scenes which leave
a mark on both their lives--cruel, hard, unjust and bitter words--hard
and cruel thoughts.

Then Lady Chandos had her carriage called and went home.

CHAPTER LIV.

A MOTHER'S APPEAL.

"She would not bear it--she could not bear it," this was Lady Marion's
conclusion in the morning, when the sunbeams peeping in her room told
her it was time to rise. She turned her face to the wall and said it
would be easier to die--her life was spoiled, nothing could give her
back her faith and trust in her husband or her love for him.

Life held nothing for her now. It was noon before she rose, and then she
went to her boudoir. Lord Chandos had gone out, leaving no message for
her. She sat there thinking, brooding over her sorrow, wondering what
she was to do, when the Countess of Lanswell was announced.

Lady Marion looked up. It was as though an inspiration from Heaven had
come to her; she would tell Lady Lanswell, and hear what she had to say.

"You have been crying," said the countess, as she bent over her
daughter-in-law. "Crying, and how ill you look--what is the matter?"

"There is something very wrong the matter," said Lady Marion. "Something
that I cannot bear--something that will kill me if it is not stopped."

"My dearest Marion," said the countess, "what is wrong? I have never
seen you so distressed before. Where is Lance?"

"I never know where he is now," she said. "Oh, Lady Lanswell, I am so
miserable, so unhappy that I wish I were dead."

This outbreak from Lady Marion, who was always so calm, so high-bred, so
reticent in expressing her feelings, alarmed Lady Lanswell. She took the
cold, trembling hands in her own.

"Marion," she said, "you must calm yourself; you must tell me what is
the matter and let me help you."

Lady Chandos told her all, and the countess listened in wondering amaze.

"Are you quite sure?" she said. "Lady Ilfield exaggerates sometimes whe