"You shall speak to me here," she repeated, clasping her arms round the trembling figure and laying the golden head on her breast. She kissed the fair, sad face with a passion of love. "There," she said, "Lady Marion, if I had wronged you even in the least, I should not dare do that. Now tell me what you have come to say. Do not tremble so," and the tender arms tightened their clasp. "Do not be afraid to speak to me." "I am not afraid, for Heaven sent me," said Lady Marion. "I know that you will tell me the truth. I am as certain of that as I am of my own life. I have been very unhappy over you, Madame Vanira, for my husband seems to have cared more for you than for me." "Has your husband ever told you anything about me?" asked Leone, gently. And the answer was: "No, nothing, except that, like everyone else, he admired you very much." "Nothing more?" asked Leone. "No, nothing more." "Then," said Leone to herself, "the secret that he has kept I will keep, and this fair, tender woman shall never know that I once believed myself his wife." Lady Marion wondered why she bent down and kissed her with all the fervor of self-sacrifice. "I have been very unhappy," continued Lady Marion. "I loved and admired you. I never had the faintest suspicion in my mind against you, until some one came to tell me that you and my husband had spent a day on the river together. I know it was true, but he would not explain it." "Let me explain it," said Leone, sadly. "I trust you as you trust me. I have had a great sorrow in my love; greater--oh, Heaven!--than ever fell to the lot of woman. And one day, when I saw your husband, the bitterness of it was lying heavily on me. I said something to him that led him to understand how dull and unhappy I felt. Lady Chandos, he took me on the river that he might give me one happy day, nothing more. Do you grudge it to me, dear? Ah, if I could give you the happiness of those few fleeting hours I would." And again her warm, loving lips touched the white brow. "I understand," said Lady Marion. "Why did my husband not speak as you have done? Does he care for you, madame? You will tell me the truth, I know." And the fair face looked wistfully in her own. Leone was silent for a few minutes; she could not look in those clear eyes and speak falsely. "Yes," she answered, slowly; "I think Lord Chandos cares very much for me; I know that he admires and likes me." Lady Marion looked very much relieved. There could surely be no harm in their friendship if she could speak of it so openly. "And you, madame--oh, tell me truly--do you love him? Tell me truly; it seems that all my life hangs on your word." Again the beautiful face drooped silently before the fair one. "It would be so easy for me to tell you a falsehood," said Leone, while a great crimson flush burned her face, "but I will not. Yes, I--I love him. Pity me, you who love him so well yourself; he belongs to you, while I--ah, pity me because I love him."