"It is quite true, Miss Wayland. If you doubt my word I give you _carte blanche_ to ask my aunt, Mrs. Egerton, or even Mr. Templeton himself. You see I have the best reason in the world for accusing him of being a fortune-hunter." The beautiful young girl did not think of doubting Mrs. St. John's assertion, although it caused her the bitterest pain. There was an earnestness in the words and tones of the bride that carried conviction with them. Miss Wayland sat musing quietly a moment, then she said, hesitatingly: "May I ask if you are friends with Mr. Templeton now, Mrs. St. John?" Xenie lifted her dark eyes and looked at the gentle girl. "Should you love a man that won your heart and threw it away like a broken toy?" she asked, slowly. "I do not believe that I could ever forgive him," said Edith, frankly. "Nor can I," answered Xenie, in a low voice of repressed passion. "No, I am not friends with him, Edith, and never shall be; I am not the kind of woman who could forgive such a cruel slight." Neither of them said another word on the subject, but Edith knew quite well from that moment why Xenie had married Mr. St. John. "It was not for the sake of the money, but simply to revenge herself on Howard Templeton," she said to herself, with a woman's ready wit. And when Mr. Templeton, according to his uncle's desire, offered her his hand and heart, a few days later, expecting to have her for the asking, he was surprised to receive a cold, almost contemptuous refusal. But she dropped a few words before they parted by which he knew plainly that his deadly foe had been working against him, and that her revengeful hand had struck a fortune from his grasp for the second time in the space of a week. CHAPTER IV. Several months of irksome quiet to Mrs. St. John succeeded the festivities that followed upon her marriage. Her elderly bridegroom found that protracted gayeties did not agree with his age and health, and with the obstinacy common to a selfish old age, he prohibited his wife from participation in those scenes of pleasure in which, by reason of her youth and beauty, she was so pre-eminently fitted to shine. He could not stand such excitement himself, he said, and he wanted his wife at home to cheer and solace his declining years. So the beautiful bridal dresses hung in the wardrobe unworn, and the costly jewels hid their brightness locked away in their caskets. Xenie had small need for these things in the lonely life to which she found herself condemned by her foolish, doting old husband. Loving pleasure and excitement with all the ardor of a passionate, impulsive temperament like hers, it is quite possible that Mrs. St. John might have rebelled against her liege lord's selfishness, but for one strong purpose to which she bent every energy, subordinating everything else to its accomplishment.