"You look kind," he said, "be my friend. I think that, years ago, I knew Madame Vanira. If she be the lady whom I believe her to be, she will be pleased to see me, and no possible blame can be attached to you. Tell me where she is that I may find her." "Madame is in the morning-room," said the girl, with some hesitation, "but I shall lose my place if I admit you." "I promise you no," said Lord Chandos; "on the contrary, your lady will be pleased that you are able to discriminate between those whom she would like to see, and those whom she would not." "At least, let me announce you," pleaded the pretty housemaid, in broken English. "No, it would serve no purpose; that is, of course, you can go before me and open the door--I will follow you immediately. You need only say, 'A gentleman to see you, madame.' Will you do this?" "Yes," said the girl, reluctantly. As he followed her through the passage, it did occur to him that if it were not Leone, he should be in a terrible dilemma. It occurred to him also, that if it were Leone, what right had he there, with that fair, sweet wife of his at home--what right had he there? He followed the pretty maid through the hall and through a suit of rooms, furnished with quiet elegance. They came to the door of a room before which the maid stopped, and Lord Chandos saw that her face had grown pale. She opened it. "A gentleman to see you, madame," she said, hastily. And then the maid disappeared, and he entered the room. Leone was standing with her face to the window when he entered, and he had one moment in which to look round the room--one moment in which to control the rapid beating of his heart; then she turned suddenly, and once more they were face to face. Ah, to see the heaven of delight and rapture that came over hers--the light that came into her eyes; it was as though her face was suddenly transfigured; all the past in that one moment of rapture was forgotten, all the treachery, the perfidy, the falsity. She uttered one word, "Lance," but it was a cry of unutterable delight. "Lance," she repeated, and then, with all the light of heaven still shining in her face, she hid her face on his breast. She did not remember, she only knew that it was the face of her lost lover, the same strong, tender arms were clasped round her, the same warm kisses were on her face, the same passionate, loving heart was beating near her own. Ah, Heaven, how sweet that one moment was. To die while it lasted, never to leave the shelter of those dear arms again. She had waited for him for years, and he had come at last. There were a few minutes of silent, rapturous greeting, and then, suddenly, she remembered, and sprung from him with a low cry. "How dare you?" she cried, "I had forgotten. How dare you?" Then the sight of the beloved face, the dear eyes, the well-remembered figure, took all the hot anger from her.