"You are a partisan," says Lady Baltimore coldly. "You would plead his cause, and to me! You are violent, but that does not put you in the right. What do you know of Baltimore that I do not know? By what right do you defend him?" "There is such a thing as friendship!" "Is there?" says the other with deep meaning. "Is there, Beatrice? Oh! think--think!" A little bitter smile curls the corners of her lips. "That you should advocate the cause of friendship to me," says she, her words falling with cruel scorn one by one slowly from her lips. "You think me false," says Lady Swansdown. She is terribly agitated. "There was an old friendship between us--I know that--I feel it. You think me altogether false to it?" "I think of you as little as I can help," says Isabel, contemptuously. "Why should I waste a thought on you?" "True! Why indeed! One so capable of controlling her emotions as you are need never give way to superfluous or useless thoughts. Still, give one to Baltimore. It is our last conversation together, therefore bear with me--hear me. All his sins lie in the past. He----" "You must be mad to talk to me like this," interrupts Isabel, flushing crimson. "Has he asked you to intercede for him? Could even he go so far as that? Is it a last insult? What are you to him that you thus adopt his cause. Answer me!" cries she imperiously; all her coldness, her stern determination to suppress herself, seems broken up. "Nothing!" returns Lady Swansdown, becoming calmer as she notes the other's growing vehemence. "I never shall be anything. I have but one excuse for my interference"--She pauses. "And that!" "I love him!" steadily, but faintly. Her eyes have sought the ground. "Ah!" says Lady Baltimore. "It is true"--slowly. "It is equally true--that he--does not love me. Let me then speak. All his sins, believe me, lie behind him. That woman, that friend of yours who told you of his renewed acquaintance with Madame Istray, lied to you! There was no truth in what she said!" "I can quite understand your not wishing to believe in that story," says Lady Baltimore with an undisguised sneer. "Like all good women, you can take pleasure in inflicting a wound," says Lady Swansdown, controlling herself admirably. "But do not let your detestation of me blind you to the fact that my words contain truth. If you will listen I can----" "Not a word," says Lady Baltimore, making a movement with her hands as if to efface the other. "I will have none of your confidences." "It seems to me"--quickly--"you are determined not to believe." "You are at liberty to think as you will." "The time may come," says Lady Swansdown, "when you will regret you did not listen to me to-day." "Is that a threat?" "No; but I am going. There will be no further opportunity for you to hear me."