d no doubt fade away
with time, but the face must always remain unsightly, even a little
grotesque, must always show to the casual passer-by a woman who had been
the victim of a dreadful accident.

Lady Holme stared at this woman for a long time. There were no tears in
her eyes. Then she went to the dressing-table and began to make up her
face. Slowly, deliberately, with a despairing carefulness, she covered
it with pigments till she looked like a woman in Regent Street. Her face
became a frightful mask, and even then the fact that she was disfigured
was not concealed. The application of the pigments began to cause her
pain. The right side of her face throbbed. She looked dreadfully old,
too, with this mass of paint and powder upon her--like a hag, she
thought. And it was obvious that she was trying to hide something.
Anyone, man or woman, looking upon her, would divine that so much art
could only be used for the concealment of a dreadful disability. People,
seeing this mask, would suppose--what might they not suppose? The pain
in her face became horrible. Suddenly, with a cry, she began to undo
what she had done. When she had finished she rang the bell. Her maid
knocked at the door. Without opening it she called out:

"Is his lordship in the house?"

"Yes, my lady. His lordship has just come in."

"Go and ask him to come up and see me."

"Yes, my lady."

Lady Holme sat down on the sofa at the foot of the bed. She was
trembling violently. She sat looking on the ground and trying to control
her limbs. A sort of dreadful humbleness surged through her, as if she
were a guilty creature about to cringe before a judge. She trembled till
the sofa on which she was sitting shook. She caught hold of the cushions
and made a strong effort to sit still. The handle of the door turned.

"Don't come in!" she cried out sharply.

But the door opened and her husband appeared on the threshold. As he did
so she turned swiftly so that only part of the left side of her face was
towards him.

"Vi!" he said. "Poor old girl, I--"

He was coming forward when she called out again "Stay there, Fritz!"

He stopped.

"Why?" he asked.

"I--I--wait a minute. Shut the door."

He shut the door. She was still looking away from him.

"Do you understand?" she said, still in a sharp voice.

"Understand what?"

"That I'm altered, that the accident's altered me--very much?"

"I know. The doctor said something. But you look all right."