"no one pleaded for me."

"I do plead for Lady Marion," said the countess, "whatever you may think
of me. She has done you no harm; why should you make mischief between
her and her husband?"

"Why did you make mischief between me and mine?" retorted Leone; and my
lady shrunk as she spoke.

"Listen to me, Leone," she said; "you must help me, you must be my
friend. If my son goes to Berlin against his wife's prayers and wishes,
she has declared that she will never speak to him or see him again."

"That cannot concern me," said Leone.

"For Heaven's sake listen, and do not speak to me so heartlessly. If he
goes to Berlin, Lady Chandos will appeal to the Duke of Lester, who has
just obtained for my son the greatest honor that can be conferred on an
English gentleman--the Order of the Garter. In plain words, Leone, if my
son follows you to Berlin, he will lose his wife, he will lose his good
name, he will lose caste, his social position, his chance of courtly
honors, the respect of his own class. He will be laughed at as a dupe,
as a man who has given up all the honors of life to dance attendance on
an actress; in short, if he goes either with you, or after you, to
Berlin, he is, in every sense of the word, a ruined man!" and my lady's
voice faltered as she said the words.

"Why not tell Lord Chandos all this himself, and see what he says?"
asked Leone.

Perfect desperation brings about perfect frankness--my lady knew that it
was quite useless to conceal anything.

"I have said all this and more to my son, but he will not even listen to
me."

A scornful smile curved those lovely lips.

"He persists in going to Berlin, then?" said Leone, quietly.

"Yes," replied my lady, "he persists in it."

"Then why come to me? If your son persists in a certain course of
action, why come to me?"

"Because you can influence him. I ask you to be noble beyond the
nobility of women, I ask you to be generous beyond the generosity of
women, I ask you to forget the past and forbid my son to follow you to
Berlin. You know the end must be a bad one--forbid it. I ask you with
the warmest of prayers and of tears!"

It was then that Leone rose in righteous wrath, in not indignation, in
angry passion; rose and stood erect before the woman who had been her
enemy.

"I refuse," she said. "Years ago I went to you a simple-hearted, loving
girl, and I prayed you for Heaven's sake to have mercy on me. You
received me with scorn and contum