"I have nothing to say to you," she muttered, in low and husky tones, as if ashes were in her throat. "But to YOU!" she said, and her voice rose clear and strong as she turned and stretched out her arm towards Rosa, who was leaning in a fainting condition against the wall--"TO YOU, viper, who has stung to death the bosom that warmed you to life--TO YOU, traitress, who has come between the true husband and his wife--TO YOU, thief! who has stolen from your benefactress the sole treasure of her life--TO YOU I have this to say: I will not drive you forth in dishonor from my door this night, nor will I publish your infamy to the world to-morrow, though you have deserved nothing less than these from my hands; but in the morning you must leave the house you have desecrated! for if you do not, or if ever I find your false face here again, I will tread down and crush out your life with less remorse than ever I set heel upon a spider! I will, as I am a Berners! And now, begone, and never let me see your form again!" Rosa Blondelle, who had stood spell-bound by the terrible gaze and overwhelming words of Sybil, the wronged wife, now suddenly threw up her hands, and with a low cry, fled from the room. And Sybil dropped her arm and her voice at the same instant, and stood dumb and motionless. And now, at length, Lyon Berners spoke again. "Sybil! you have uttered words that nothing on the part of that poor lady should have provoked from you--words that I fear may never be forgotten or forgiven! But--I know that she has a gentle and easy nature. When you are cooler and more rational, I wish you to go to her and be reconciled with her." "With _her_! I am a Berners!" answered Sybil, haughtily. "But you bitterly wrong that lady in your thoughts!" "Bah! I caught her in your arms! on your breast! her lips clinging to yours!" "The first and last kiss! I swear it by all my hopes of Heaven, Sybil--a brother's kiss!" Sybil made a gesture of scorn and disgust. "If I were not past laughing, I should have to laugh now," she said. "And you will not believe this?" She shook her head. "And you will not be reconciled to this injured young stranger?" "I! I am a lady--'or long have dreamed so,'" answered Sybil, haughtily. "At least the daughter of an honest mother. And I will not even permit such a woman as that to live under the same roof with me another day. She leaves in the morning." "The house is yours! You must do as you please! But this I tell you: that in the same hour which sees that poor and friendless young creature driven from the shelter of this roof, I leave it too, and leave it for ever." If Lyon Berners really meant this, or thought to bring his fiery-hearted wife to terms by the threat, he was mistaken in her character.