"I should think the less you say of that interview, the better," said Leone; "it was not much to your ladyship's credit." Lady Lanswell smiled. "We will not speak of it," she said. "But you do not ask me to sit down. Madame Vanira, what a charming house you have here." With grave courtesy Leone drew a chair near the window, and the countess sat down. She looked at the beautiful woman with a winning smile. "Will you not be seated, madame?" she said. "I find it so much easier to talk when one is seated." "How did you recognize me?" asked Leone, abruptly. "I cannot say truthfully that I recognized your face," she said; "you will not mind my saying that if I had done so I would not have invited you to my house, neither should I have permitted my daughter-in-law to do so. It has placed us all in a false position. I knew you from something my son said about you. I guessed at once that you must be Leone Noel. I must repeat my congratulations; how hard you must have worked." Her eyes wandered over the magnificent face and figure, over the faultless lines and graceful curves, over the artistic dress, and the beautiful, picturesque head. "You have done well," said the countess. "Years ago you thought me hard, unfeeling, prejudiced, cruel, but it was kindness in the end. You have achieved for yourself fame, which no one could have won for you. Better to be as you are, queen of song, and so queen of half the world of fashion, than the wife of a man whose family and friends would never have received you, and who would soon have looked on you as an incumbrance." "Pray pardon me, Lady Lanswell, if I say that I have no wish whatever to hear your views on the subject." My lady's face flushed. "I meant no offense," she said, "I merely wished to show you that I have not been so much your enemy as you perhaps have thought me," and by the sudden softening of my lady's face, and the sudden tremor of her voice, Leone knew that she had some favor to ask. "I think," she said, after a pause, "that in all truth, Madame Vanira, you ought to be grateful to me. You would never have known the extent of your own genius and power if you had not gone on the stage." "The happiness of the stage resembles the happiness of real life about as much as the tinsel crown of the mock queen resembles the regalia of the sovereign," replied Leone. "It would be far better if your ladyship would not mention the past." "I only mention it because I wish you to see that I am not so much your enemy as you have thought me to be." "Nothing can ever change my opinion on that point," said Leone. "You think I was your enemy?" said the countess, blandly. "The most cruel and the most relentless enemy any young girl could have," said Leone. "I am sorry you think that," said my lady, kindly. "The more so as I find you so happy and so prosperous." "You cannot answer for my happiness," said Leone, briefly.