know," replied Mr.
Berners.

Suddenly Rosa looked up, started, and with a suppressed cry, muttered:

"Good heavens! Look at Sybil!"

Mr. Berners followed the direction of her gaze across the table, and
even he started at the sight of Sybil's face.

That face wore a look of anguish, despair, and desperation that seemed
fixed there forever; for in all its agony of passion that tortured and
writhen face was as still, cold, hard, and lifeless as marble, except
that from its eyes streamed glances as from orbs of fire.

Mr. Berners suddenly turned his eyes from her, and looked up and down
the table. Fortunately now every one was too busily engaged in eating,
drinking, laughing, talking, flirting, and gossiping to attend to the
looks of their hostess.

"I must go and speak to her," said Lyon Berners in extreme anxiety and
displeasure, as he left Rosa's side, and made his way around the table,
until he stood immediately behind his wife. He touched her on her
shoulder to attract her attention. She started as if an adder had stung
her, but she never looked around.

"Sybil, my dearest, you are ill. What is the matter?" he whispered,
trying to avoid being overheard by others.

"Do NOT touch me! _Do not_ speak to me, unless you wish to see me drop
dead or go mad before you!" she answered in tones so full of suppressed
energy, that he impulsively drew back.

He waited for a moment in dire dread lest the assembled company should
see the state of his wife, and then he ventured to renew his efforts.

"Sybil, my darling, you are really not well. Let me lead you out of this
crowded room," he whispered, very gently, laying his hand upon her
shoulder.

She dashed it off as if it had been some venomous reptile, and turned
upon him a look flaming with fiery wrath.

"Sybil you will certainly draw the attention of our guests," he
persisted, with much less gentleness than he had before spoken.

"If you touch me, or speak to me but once more--if you do not leave me
on the instant, I _will_ draw the attention of our guests, and draw it
with a vengeance too!" she fiercely retorted, never once removing from
him her flaming eyes.

CHAPTER XVIII.

LYING IN WAIT.

"He is with her; and they know that I know
Where they are, and what they do; they believe my tears flow
While they laugh, laugh at me, at me left in the drear
Empty hall to l