A quiver of pain crossed the woman's face, her eyelids fell as if to shut out something that shamed her in spite of all her vainglorious protestations. Then the spirit of exaltation resumed its sway. She lifted her eyes heavenward, and inaudible words trembled on her lips. A moment later she stood over him, her hands extended as if in blessing. Had he looked up at that instant he would have witnessed a Yvonne he did not know. No longer was she the alluring, sensuous creature who had been in his thoughts for months, but a transfigured being whose soul looked out through gentle, pitying eyes, whose wiles no longer were employed in the devices of which she was past-mistress, whose real nature was revealed now for the first time since she entered the house of James Brood. There was pain and suffering in the lovely eyes, and there was a strange atmosphere of sanctuary attending the very conquest she had made. But Frederic did not look up until all this had passed and the smile of triumph was on her lips again and the glint of determination in her eyes. He had missed the revelation that would have altered his estimate of her for the future. “You cannot marry Lydia now,” she said, affecting a sharpness of tone that caused him to shrink involuntarily. “It is your duty to write her a letter to-night, explaining all that has happened to-day. She would sacrifice herself for you to-day, but there is--to-morrow! A thousand to-morrows, Frederic. Don't forget them, my dear. They would be ugly, after all, and she is too good, too fine to be dragged into------” “You are right!” he exclaimed, leaping to his feet. “It would be the vilest act that a man could perpetrate. Why--why, it would be proof of what he says of me--it would stamp me for ever the dastard he--no, no; I could never lift my head again if I were to do this utterly vile thing to Lydia. He said to me here--not an hour ago--that he expected me to go ahead and blight that loyal girl's life, that I would consider it a noble means of self-justification! What do you think of that? He------ But wait! What is this that we are proposing to do? Give me time to think! Why--why, I can't take you away from him, Yvonne! What am I thinking of? Have I no sense of honour? Am I------” “You are not his son,” she said significantly. “But that is no reason why I should stoop to a foul trick like this. Do--do you know what you are suggesting?” He drew back from her with a look of disgust in his eyes. “No! I'm not that vile! I----” “Frederic, you must let me------” “I don't want to hear anything more, Yvonne. What manner of woman are you? He is your husband, he loves you, he trusts you; oh, yes, he does! And you would leave him like this? You would------” “Hush! Not so loud!” she cried in great agitation.