"Mr Elbraham, for your own and your lady's sake be silent and calm yourself, or the guests will learn what has occurred. If you demand satisfaction afterwards, sir, you can do so, though duels are out of fashion." "Satisfaction!" cried Elbraham. "By Gad I'll have heavy damages--heavy damages!" he reiterated, with the foggy notion still in his brain that this was a case in which he could proceed against Glen in the Divorce Court. "We will discuss that afterwards, sir," said Lord Henry coldly. "Mrs Elbraham, there are some of your guests approaching. Marie, my child, lead your sister into the next room; she has been a little faint. Elbraham, recollect yourself." "All right, my lord; I'm calm enough. But let this blackguard go at once." Glen started, and he was turning furiously upon the financier, when he saw Marie slowly approaching her sister with a look almost of loathing in her countenance, and he took a couple of steps towards her. "Marie, for heaven's sake hear me!" he whispered; but even as he spoke he saw Clotilde turn and glare at him with so fierce a look that he was again silenced. Then Lord Henry threw open the door, the strains of music and the brilliant light flashed into the conservatory, and Clotilde seemed to recover herself, and laid her hand upon her husband's arm. "Take me away," she said hoarsely; but, seeing that Marie did not move, she restrained her lord, whose face was just turning back from purple to red, and seemed to be waiting for her sister to leave. "Will you take me back into the drawing-room, Lord Henry?" said a voice then that sounded quite strange to all present, and mastering her emotion, but looking deadly pale, Marie suffered Lord Henry to lead her away without one glance at Glen, who stood there feeling as if a hand were constricting his throat. The next moment Elbraham favoured him with a melodramatic scowl, and marched out with Clotilde's white arm resting, laden with glittering bracelets, upon his black coat-sleeve, and her face fixed, as if of marble, as she gazed straight before her. "He will not betray me," she thought to herself, "and he will forgive me the next time we meet." She might have altered her opinion if she had heard his words, though perhaps they would have made her feel more satisfied as regarded her own position. "Curse the woman for a Jezebel!" cried Glen between his teeth, as he clutched a handful of the rich leafage of a palm and crushed it in his fingers. "Was ever poor wretch meshed before in such a net? If ever I forgive her this--Well, what is it?" "Alone!" cried Dick. "I thought I saw Marie come in here while I was dancing." "Yes," said Glen, trying to crush down his emotion; "she did come here, and she is gone." "For a _tete-a-tete_. Curse it all, Glen! you are too bad. Have some honesty in you!"