Scarlet, pensively drooping were the lips, and almost opalescent the clear-cut cheek and chin. The delicate nostrils vibrated with the quickened breath that stirred the firm, full breast which rose and fell softly, gently; there were firm, hitherto invisible blue lines in the gleaming skin. Slowly, resistlessly Lydia's arm tightened about the slender, seductive body. After a long time, in which there was conflict, she suddenly pressed her warm lips to Yvonne's in a kiss that thrilled through every nerve in her body--a kiss that lingered because it was returned with equal fervour and abandon. They were clasped tightly in each other's arms and their eyes were closed as with pain. Then, in an abrupt revulsion of feeling, in a desperate awakening, Lydia relaxed. Her arms fell away from the warm, sweet body and her eyes widened with something that passed for confusion, but which was in reality shame. Almost roughly she pushed Yvonne away from her. “I--I didn't mean to do that!” she gasped. The other withdrew her arm and straightened up slowly, all the time regarding the girl with a strange, wondering look in her eyes--a look that quickly resolved itself into sadness so poignant that the girl, even in her confused state of mind, recognised it as such and was abashed. “I knew that you would,” said Yvonne in a very low voice, and shook her head drearily. “I am sorry,” murmured Lydia in great distress. The other smiled, but it was a sad, plaintive effort on her part. “I knew that you would,” she repeated. Lydia sprang to her feet, her face suddenly flaming with embarrassment. She felt unaccountably guilty of--she knew not what. “I must see Mr Brood. I stepped in to tell him that------” she began, trying to cover her confusion, but Yvonne interrupted. “I know that you could not help it, my dear,” she said. Then, after a pause: “You will let me know what my husband has to say about it?” “To--to say about it?” “About your decision to marry Frederic in spite of his objections.” Lydia felt a little shiver race over her as she looked toward the door. “You will help us?” she said tremulously, turning to Yvonne. Again she saw the drawn, pained look about the dark eyes and was startled. “You can do more with him than I,” was the response. CHAPTER XV Lydia stopped for a moment in the hall, after closing the door behind her, to pull herself together for the ordeal that was still to come. She was trembling; a weakness had assailed her. She had left Yvonne's presence in a dazed, unsettled condition of mind.