l upon yourself;
besides, you know you can do nothing." In spite of her words, Lady
Darrell looked half-fearfully at the girl's proud, defiant face. "You
may have all kinds of tragic plans for vengeance in your mind, but there
are no secrets in my life that you can find out to my discredit--indeed,
you cannot injure me in any possible way." She seemed so sure of it, yet
her eyes sought Pauline's with an anxious, questioning fear. "Now, I, on
the contrary," she went on, "can do much for you--and I will. You are
young, and naturally wish to enjoy your life. You shall. You shall have
balls and parties, dresses--everything that you can wish for, if you
will only be friends with me."

She might as well have thrown drops of oil on an angry ocean to moderate
its wrath.

"Lady Darrell," was the sole reply, "you are only wasting your time and
mine. I warned you. Twenty years may elapse before my vengeance arrives,
but it will come at last."

She walked away, leaving the brilliant figure of the young bride alone
in the bright lamp-light. She did not leave the room, for Sir Oswald
entered at the moment, carrying a small, square parcel in his hand. He
smiled as he came in.

"How pleasant it is to see so many fair faces!" he said. "Why, my home
has indeed been dark until now."

He went up to Lady Darrell, as she stood alone. All the light in the
room seemed to be centered on her golden hair and shining dress. He
said:

"I have brought the little parcel, Elinor, thinking that you would
prefer to give your beautiful present to Pauline herself. But," he
continued, "why are you standing, my love? You will be tired."

She raised her fair, troubled face to his, with a smile.

"Moreover, it seems to me that you are looking anxious," he resumed.
"Miss Hastings, will you come here, please? Is this an anxious look on
Lady Darrell's face?"

"I hope not," said the governess, with a gentle smile.

Then Sir Oswald brought a chair, and placed his wife in it; he next
obtained a footstool and a small table. Lady Darrell, though
half-ashamed of the feeling, could not help being thankful that Pauline
did not notice these lover-like attentions.

"Now, Miss Hastings," spoke Sir Oswald, "I want you to admire Lady
Darrell's taste."

He opened the parcel. It contained a morocco case, the lid of which,
upon a spring being touched, flew back, exposing a beautiful suite of
rubies set in pale gold.

Miss Hastings uttered a little cry of delig