What was it that stood in Speranza’s eyes? Tears, large and clear as crystals, were falling from them, and sobs shook her graceful upright frame, as she stood with her hands clasped to her forehead in an agony of grief. Only seventeen, poor child, and yet so miserable! It was a cruel sight for any one to see. But no one saw it save the pale moon and twinkling stars that looked down calmly and sweetly on the sobbing girl. A harsh voice sounded suddenly at her elbow, a rough grasp was laid upon her arm. With a cry in which loathing and horror were mixed Speranza turned round, only to confront the contemptuous, haughty woman, who had never said a kind or nice word to her in all her life. “How dare you, girl, behave like this?” had cried the countess furiously. “How dare you so answer my darling boy, who has thus condescended to honour you with his love?” In vain the miserable child had striven to explain to the infuriated woman that she did not care for Lord Altai. Such an explanation had only aggravated the countess’s anger, who, after many and various threats, had declared that unless Speranza consented to gratify her darling boy’s passion, she would induce the earl to deprive Speranza’s two brothers of their allowances, and therefore of their professions, which, in other words, meant ruin to them. She was a clever woman was Lady Westray. She knew exactly where to strike to gain her end. The threat which she threw out about Speranza’s two brothers she knew pretty well would take effect; for did she not also know that out to them the poor child’s whole heart had gone? Rather than injure them, the girl determined to sacrifice herself. A month later a great wedding took place. Envied of all who saw her, Speranza de Lara became Viscountess Altai, and the wife of the man whom she detested and loathed. Sold by the law which declares that however brutally a man may treat his wife, so that he does not strike her, she has no power to free herself from him; sold by the law which declares her to be that man’s slave, this woman, bright with the glory of a high intellect, perfect in Nature’s health and strength, was committed to the keeping of a man whom Fashion courted and patted on the back, whilst declaring him at the same time to be the veriest _roué_ in London. _He_ could go and do as _he_ pleased; indulge in brutal excess, pander to every hideous passion of his heart, poison with his vile touch the beautiful creature whom he looked down upon as “only a woman”; but _she_, if _she_ dared to overstep the line of propriety, and openly declare her love for another, she would be doomed to social ostracism, shunned and despised as a wanton, and out of the pale of decent society. She did so dare! For six long years she bore with his brutal excess and depraved passions; for six long years she suffered the torture which only those who have so suffered can understand. Then she succumbed.