Mrs. Meredith, with an impulse of strong womanly pity, let her gloved hand fall softly on Flower's, and rest there, clasping it with tender pity. Her two handsome daughters stood gazing with infinite pity on the lovely girl thus crushed beneath the weight of a sister's vengeance. Lord Clive looked at old Lord Ivon who had sunk back into his chair ghastly pale, and muttering incoherently to himself, dazed by the shock he had received in learning of the brand of deep disgrace that lay on his great-granddaughter. The hearers shuddered, for the sound of curses on those aged lips was something unseemly and unfitting. Lord Clive saw that the old man, bowed so low beneath age and sorrow, was in no fit state to defend the outraged honor of the house of Ivon. His decision was at once taken, and crossing the room with a princely mien, he took Azalia Brooke's hand in his, and said, bravely: "Azalia, I lay down the role of lover to take up that of a brother. The honor of one of England's proudest names has been outraged by a dastard too mean to live, and his life shall pay the forfeit." "Lord Clive!" she exclaimed, in a startled voice. "Yes, I take up your quarrel," he said, sternly, and with a deep glow on his handsome cheek. "I, your brother, will avenge the wrong that has been done you! I will not let an hour pass ere I seek him, the cowardly betrayer of innocence! Quick, tell me his name, his home!" As he held her little hand he felt a quick shudder run through her frame, and she gasped in horror: "Oh, my God! you would murder him!" "Yes, like a dog!" the young earl exclaimed, bitterly. "What, shall the earth be cumbered longer with such a wretch? His name, my unhappy sister!" "No, no!" she answered, with a shudder, and her blue eyes sought Jewel's, that had suddenly grown wild and terrified. All at once the vindictive girl had realized that the vengeance she was taking on unhappy Flower was beginning to recoil upon her own head. "Revenge is a naked sword-- It hath neither hilt nor guard. Wouldst thou wield this brand of the Lord? Is thy grasp, then, firm and hard? "But the closer thy clutch of the blade. The deadlier blow thou wouldst deal, Deeper wound in thy hand is made, It is _thy_ blood reddens the steel. "And when thou hast dealt the blow-- When the blade from thy hand has flown-- Instead of the heart of thy foe Thou mayst find it sheathed in thine own!" Jewel met the glance of those despairing eyes, and her brain reeled with horror; she said to herself: "She will speak presently, she will betray him that she may be revenged for what she deems his treachery and mine! Oh, God, this is the end of all my schemes! He will be murdered through my folly, and I shall have lost him after all I have done for the sake of his love!" Suddenly Lord Clive flung the hand of Flower from him and strode up to Jewel.