at that moment. She thought of it as a sort
of armor in which her visitor was encased, an armor which rendered her
invulnerable. What shaft could penetrate that smooth black and white,
that flowing panoply, and reach the heart Lady Ingleton desired to
pierce? Suddenly Lady Ingleton felt cruel. She longed to tear away from
Rosamund all the religion which seemed to be protecting her; she longed
to see her naked as Dion Leith was naked.

"I didn't care to look upon a man in hell," she said, in a voice which
had become almost brutal, a voice which Sir Carey would scarcely have
recognized if he had heard it.

Rosamund said nothing, and, after a moment, Lady Ingleton continued:

"With us on the yacht was one of my husband's secretaries of Embassy,
Cyril Vane, who had just become engaged to be married. He is married
now. In his cabin on the yacht he had a photograph of the girl. One
night he was walking up and down on deck with your husband, and your
husband--I'd just told him about Vane's engagement--congratulated him.
Vane invited Mr. Leith into the cabin and showed him the photograph.
Vane told me afterwards that he should never forget the look on your
husband's face as he took the photograph and gazed at it. When he put it
down he said to Vane, 'I hope you may be happy. She looks very kind, and
very good, too; but there's no cruelty on earth like the cruelty of a
good woman.'" (Did the sister's dress rustle faintly?) "Vane--he's only
a boy--was very angry for a moment, though he's usually imperturbable.
I don't know exactly what he said, but I believe he made a rather strong
protest about knowing his fiancee's character _au fond_. Anyhow, your
husband took hold of his arm and said to him, 'Don't love very much
and you may be happy. That's the only chance for a man--not to love the
woman very much.' Vane came to me and told me. I remember it was late at
night and my husband was there. When Vane was leaving us Carey said to
him, 'Forget the advice that poor fellow gave you. Love her as much
as you can, my boy. Dion Leith speaks out of the bitterness that is
destroying him. But very few men can love as he can, and very few men
have been punished by their love as he has been punished by his. His
sorrow is altogether exceptional, and has made him lose the power of
moral vision. His soul has been poisoned at the source.' My husband was
right."

"You came here to tell me that?" said Rosamund, lifting her head and
speaking col