Laura's voice almost failed her as she said this--it was the first time that in talking with Selina she had uttered that horrible word. She had heard it however, often enough on the lips of others; it had been bandied lightly enough in her presence under those somewhat austere ceilings of Mellows, of which the admired decorations and mouldings, in the taste of the middle of the last century, all in delicate plaster and reminding her of Wedgewood pottery, consisted of slim festoons, urns and trophies and knotted ribbons, so many symbols of domestic affection and irrevocable union. Selina herself had flashed it at her with light superiority, as if it were some precious jewel kept in reserve, which she could convert at any moment into specie, so that it would constitute a happy provision for her future. The idea--associated with her own point of view--was apparently too familiar to Mrs. Berrington to be the cause of her changing colour; it struck her indeed, as presented by Laura, in a ludicrous light, for her pretty eyes expanded a moment and she smiled pityingly. 'Well, you are a poor dear innocent, after all. Lionel would be about as able to divorce me--even if I were the most abandoned of my sex--as he would be to write a leader in the _Times_.' 'I know nothing about that,' said Laura. 'So I perceive--as I also perceive that you must have shut your eyes very tight. Should you like to know a few of the reasons--heaven forbid I should attempt to go over them all; there are millions!--why his hands are tied?' 'Not in the least.' 'Should you like to know that his own life is too base for words and that his impudence in talking about me would be sickening if it weren't grotesque?' Selina went on, with increasing emotion. 'Should you like me to tell you to what he has stooped--to the very gutter--and the charming history of his relations with----' 'No, I don't want you to tell me anything of the sort,' Laura interrupted. 'Especially as you were just now so pained by the license of my own allusions.' 'You listen to him then--but it suits your purpose not to listen to me!' 'Oh, Selina, Selina!' the girl almost shrieked, turning away. 'Where have your eyes been, or your senses, or your powers of observation? You can be clever enough when it suits you!' Mrs. Berrington continued, throwing off another ripple of derision. 'And now perhaps, as the carriage is waiting, you will let me go about my duties.' Laura turned again and stopped her, holding her arm as she passed toward the door. 'Will you swear--will you swear by everything that is most sacred?' 'Will I swear what?' And now she thought Selina visibly blanched. 'That you didn't lay eyes on Captain Crispin in Paris.' Mrs. Berrington hesitated, but only for an instant. 'You are really too odious, but as you are pinching me to death I will swear, to get away from you. I never laid eyes on him.'