n
that amazed, pitying manner, but closely and critically, and you will
see what she is; one of those low creatures who are the shame of women
and the scorn of men. And if she has misery for her portion, she has
brought it upon herself, and it is a just punishment."

The eyes of Lady Hurstmonceux turned again upon the unfortunate young
creature before her, and this time she did examine her attentively,
letting her gaze rove over her form.

This time Nora did not lift up her hands to cover her burning face; that
marble face could never burn or blush again; since speaking her last
words Nora had remained standing like one in a trance, stone still, with
her head fallen upon her breast, and her arms hanging listlessly by her
side. She seemed dead to all around her.

Not so Lady Hurstmonceux; as her eyes roved over this form of stone her
pale face suddenly flushed, her dark eyes flashed, and she sprang up
from the sofa, asking the same question that Mrs. Brudenell had put the
evening before.

"Girl! what is it to you whether Mr. Brudenell has a wife or not? What
are you to Mr. Herman Brudenell?"

"Nothing, madam; nothing for evermore," wailed Nora, without looking up
or changing her posture.

"Humph! I am glad to hear it, I am sure!" grunted Mrs. Brudenell.

"Nothing? you say; nothing?" questioned Lady Hurstmonceux.

"Nothing in this world, madam; nothing whatever! so be at ease." It was
another wail of the storm-swept heart-strings.

"I truly believe you; I ought to have believed without asking you; but
who, then, has been your betrayer, my poor girl?" inquired the young
matron in tones of deepest pity.

This question at length shook the statue; a storm passed through her;
she essayed to speak, but her voice failed.

"Tell me, poor one; and I will do what I can to right your wrongs. Who
is it?"

"Myself!" moaned Nora, closing her eyes as if to shut out all light and
life, while a spasm drew back the corners of her mouth and convulsed her
face.

"Enough of this, Berenice! You forget the girls!" said Mrs. Brudenell,
putting her hand to the bell and ringing again.

"I beg your pardon, madam; I did indeed forget the presence of the
innocent and happy in looking upon the erring and wretched," said Lady
Hurstmonceux.

"That will do," said the elder lady. "Here is Jovial at last! Why did
you not come when I first rang?" she demanded of the negro, who now
stood in the door.

"I 'clare, mist'ess, I never heerd