The light of the setting sun had somewhat faded then, and it moved from the proud figure of the countess to the lovely young face of Leone, but even as the light warmed it, new pride, new energy, new passion seemed to fill it. The prayer and the pleading died--the softened light, the sweet tenderness left it; it was no longer the face of a loving, tender-hearted girl, pleading with hot tears that she might not be taken from her husband--it was the face of a tragedy queen, full of fire and passion. She stood, with one hand upraised, like a sibyl inspired. "I have done, Lady Lanswell," she said; "you tell me that Lord Chandos is free to marry as he will when he is twenty-one." "If you can find any comfort in that statement, I can verify it," she replied; "but surely you are not mad enough to think that, when my son is of age, he will return to you." "I am sure of it," said Leone. "I believe in my husband's love, and my husband's constancy, as I believe in Heaven." "I hope your faith in Heaven will be more useful to you," sneered the countess. "I have womanly pity enough to warn you not to let your hopes rest on this. I prophesy that Lord Chandos will have utterly forgotten you by next June, and that he does not see you again." "I will not believe it, Lady Lanswell. You are my superior by birth and fortune, but I would neither exchange mind nor heart with you. You have sordid and mean ideas. My husband will be true, and seek me when the time comes." My lady laughed. "You are very happy to have such faith in him; I have not half so much in any creature living. You hold that one card in your hand--you seem to think it a winning one; it may or may not be. I tell you one thing frankly: that I have already settled in my own mind who shall be my son's wife, and I seldom fail in a purpose." "You are a wicked woman," cried Leone. "I have no fear of you. You may try all that you will. I do not believe that you will take my husband from me. You are a wicked woman, and God will punish you, Lady Lanswell. You have parted husband and wife who loved each other." "I am not very frightened," laughed my lady. "I consider that I have been a kind of providence to my son. I have saved him from the effect of his own folly. Will you allow me to say now that, having exhausted a very disagreeable subject, this interview must be considered closed! If you would like any refreshments my housekeeper will be pleased to----" But the girl drew back with an imperial gesture of scorn.