If her husband had gone out for a day with the most beautiful woman on earth, she would either have completely ignored the fact, or, with a smiling satire, have passed it by. She did not love the earl well enough to be jealous of him; she did not understand love or jealousy in others. She sat now quite helpless before the unhappy wife, whose grief annoyed her. "This will not do, Marion," she said, "you will make yourself quite ill." "Ill," repeated Lady Marion, "I have been ill in heart and soul for many days, and now I am sick unto death. I wish I could die; life has nothing left for me." "Die, my dear, it seems such a trifle, such a trifle; one day spent together on a river. Is that anything for you to die about?" The sweet blue eyes raised wistfully to hers were full of pain. "You do not see, you do not understand. Only think how much intimacy there must have been between them before he would ask her to go, or she consent to go. If they are but strangers, or even every-day friends, what could they find to talk about for a whole day?" The countess shrugged her shoulders. "I am surprised," she said, "for I thought Madame Vanira so far above all coquetry. If I were you, Marion, I would forget it." "I cannot forget it," she cried. "Would to God that I could. It is eating my heart away." "Then," said my lady, "I will speak to Lance at once, and I am quite sure that at one word from me he will give up the acquaintance, for the simple reason that you do not like it." And with this promise the countess left her daughter-in-law. Once before, not by her bidding, but by her intrigues, she had persuaded him to give up one whom he loved; surely a few words from her now would induce him to give up her whom he could not surely love. It never occurred to her to dream that they were the same. She saw him as she was driving home, and, stopping the carriage, asked him to drive with her. "Lance, I have something very serious to say to you. There is no use beating about the bush, Marion is very ill and very unhappy." "I am sorry for it, mother, but add also she is very jealous and very foolish." "My dear Lance, your wife loves you--you know it, she loves you with all her heart and soul. If your friendship with Madame Vanira annoys her, why not give it up?" "I choose to keep my independence as a man; I will not allow any one to dictate to me what friends I shall have, whom I shall give up or retain." "In some measure you are right, Lance," said the countess, "and so far as gentleman friends are concerned, I should always choose my own; but as this is a lady, of whom Lady Marion has certain suspicions, I should most certainly give her up." "My wife has no right to be jealous," he said angrily; "it does not add to my love for her."