“False as fair; false as fair!” and “chickens always come home to roost!” muttered the “old crone,” as she watched the handsome couple move away. “What were you saying, aunt?” asked Lady Randal, sharply. She had been standing near, and saw the distrustful expression on her face, and heard the muttered tones. “I said ‘chickens always come home to roost,’” she snapped in reply. “What do you mean by it? I don’t understand you.” “I mean that you are going to get your pay through her for some of your own evil deeds in the past,” she answered, pointing her shaking finger at Isabel. “Don’t be a fool, aunt,” Lady Randal said, sharply, yet growing a shade paler than usual. “What have I done that is so very wicked?” “Ah, ha! your memory doesn’t serve you as well as mine, for all I am in my dotage,” and the old woman gave a cracked, spiteful laugh. “I haven’t forgotten how, when you were yonder girl’s age, you played a game upon his lordship in my house which nearly broke his heart, and without accomplishing your purpose, too; and now I say you’re going to get your pay for it.” “That was years and years ago, and I’m sure I don’t see what it can have to do with Sir Charles or my affairs to-day. Don’t you like Miss Coolidge? I think her very striking in appearance.” “She has a stately presence, truly; but mark my words, Helen Capel, if you live long enough, you will find that she can plot as cunningly as you did when you admitted Count de Lussan to my parlors to ruin the happiness of an innocent and beautiful girl.” “Pshaw! what has put those absurd fancies and memories into your head to-night?” and Lady Randal tried to laugh, though she shuddered at the same time. “Laugh away, my lady, while you can,” snapped the old woman, viciously, “but you’ll change your tune before long. I never quite forgave you for that night’s work, Helen; it was the first time such a man ever disgraced my house, to say nothing about her coming to such grief there. But, ah! that was more than forty years ago. I wonder whatever became of her! I am sorry for Charles, though—he is a noble fellow, and ought to have a good wife,” and Lady Ruxley heaved a sigh of regret. “Then you don’t approve of his choice, aunt; I’m sorry. She is certainly fine looking, and then she belongs to a very wealthy family.” “That’s it; that’s it, you were never satisfied with what you had,” was the impatient interruption. “You always want to hear the jingle of gold. I’d rather the boy would marry a girl like my companion, without a penny, than forty such stately, false-hearted dames, with a million apiece.” “You continue to like the girl as well as ever, then,” said Lady Randal, glad to change the subject. “Like her! There isn’t her equal here to-night, for all you were so sure I’d be taken in. I tell you, Helen, these eyes of mine are good yet, if they have been well used for eighty years.” “Where is she to-night?”