ustom yourself
to the idea of leaving Darrell Court; for I do not think there is any
doubt but that sooner or later Lady Darrell will marry again."

"I expect it," she returned. "Poor Sir Oswald! His home will go to
strangers, his name be extinct. How little he foresaw this when he
married!"

"Let it take place when it may, the Court can be no home for you then,"
continued Miss Hastings.

Pauline raised her hand with a warning gesture.

"Do not say another word, Miss Hastings; I cannot listen. Just as
criminals were fastened to the rack, bound to the wheel, tied to the
stake, I am bound here--awaiting my revenge!"

"Oh, Pauline, if you would but forego such strange speech! This longing
for vengeance is in your heart like a deadly canker in a fair flower. It
will end badly."

The beautiful face with its defiant light was turned toward her.

"Do not attempt to dissuade me," she said. "Your warning is useless, and
I do not like to grieve you. I acquainted Lady Darrell with my
determination before she married my uncle for his money. She persisted
in doing it. Let her take the consequences--bear the penalty. If she had
acted a true womanly part--if she had refused him, as she ought to have
done--he would have had time for reflection, he would not have
disinherited me in his anger, and Darrell Court would have descended to
a Darrell, as it ought to have done."

"If you could but forget the past, Pauline!"

"I cannot--it is part of my life now. I saw two lives before me
once--the one made noble, grand, and gracious by this inheritance, which
I should have known so well how to hold; the other darkened by
disappointment and shadowed by revenge. You know how some men wait for
the fair fruition of a fair hope--for the dawn of success--for the
sunshine of perfect prosperity; so do I wait for my revenge. We Darrells
never do things by halves; we are not even moderate. My heart, my soul,
my life--which might have been, I grant, filled with high impulses--are
concentrated on revenge."

Though the words she spoke were so terrible, so bitter, there was no
mean, vindictive, or malign expression on that beautiful face; rather
was it bright with a strange light. Mistaken though the idea might be,
Pauline evidently deemed herself one chosen to administer justice.

Miss Hastings looked at her.

"But, Pauline," she said, gravely, "who made you Lady Darrell's judge?"

"Myself," she replied. "Miss Hastings, you often speak of ju