"Then Lord Chandos was not very far away." "La Vanira sung to perfection in 'Fidelio,'" would remark one. Another would answer: "Lord Chandos would know how to applaud." Madame Vanira was more eagerly sought after than other women in London. She reigned queen, not only over the stage, but over the world of fashion also. The Countess of Easton gave a grand ball--it was the most exclusive of the season. After much praying Madame Vanira had promised to go, and Lady Chandos was the belle of the ball. They had not met since the evening madame had sung for her, and Lord Chandos had many an anxious thought as to what their next meeting would be like. He knew that Leone would bear much for his sake, yet he did not know what his wife would be tempted to say. They met on the night of Lady Easton's ball; neither knew that the other was coming. If Lady Chandos had dreamed of meeting Leone there she would not have gone. As it was, they met face to face in the beautiful ante-room that led to the ballroom. Face to face. Leone wore a superb dress of pale amber brocade, and Lady Chandos a beautiful costume of pale-blue velvet, the long train of which was fastened with white, shining pearls. It was like the meeting of rival queens. Leone's face flushed, Lady Marion's grew deadly pale. Leone held out her hand; Lady Marion declined to see it. They looked at each other for a brief space of time, then Leone spoke. "Lady Marion," she said, in a low, pained voice, "have I displeased you?" "Yes, you have," was the brief reply. "You will not touch my hand?" said Leone. "No, I decline to touch your hand," said Lady Marion; "I decline to speak to you after this." "Will you tell me why?" asked Leone. Lady Marion's face flushed crimson. "Since you ask me, I will tell you. You have been seeking my husband, and I do not approve of it. You spent a day with him on the river--he never told me about it. I am not a jealous wife, but I despise any woman who would seek to take the love of a husband from his wife." Conscience, which makes cowards of us all, kept Leone silent. Lady Chandos continued: "What is there between my husband and you?" "True friendship," answered Leone, trying to speak bravely. "I do not believe it," said Lady Chandos; "true friendship does not hide itself, or make mystery of its actions. Madame Vanira, I loved you when I first saw you; I take my love and my liking both from you. Now that I find that you have acted treacherously I believe in you no more." "Those are strong words, Lady Chandos," said Leone. "They are true; henceforth we are strangers. My friends are honorable women, who would seek to steal my jewels rather than seek to steal from me my husband's love." Leone could have retaliated; the temptation was strong; she could have said: "He was my husband, as I believed, before he was yours; you stole him from me, not I from you."