"Yes, my dear mistress. You remember how anxious he was to return to New York and take little Miss Ruby to the seashore. It was all an excuse to get back to the nurse. And since we came back yesterday--well, I've told enough already. Are you angry with me, my dear, injured lady?" inquired Celine breaking off, artfully, just where she really had nothing more to tell, unless she had fabricated a wholesale lie. Mrs. Desmond shook her head and remained silent. The maid was disappointed. She had expected a wild outpouring of anger from the jealous wife, but instead she preserved an ominous quiet. Her head drooped on her bosom, her face was colorless as death, her wild, burning, dark eyes were the only signs of life in her. Celine was a little startled at the effect of her wickedness. She brought some _eau de cologne_, and tried to bathe the face of her mistress but was quickly motioned away. "Go, Celine, send that girl here to me," she said, speaking in a dry, hard, unnatural voice. The maid went out, and Mrs. Desmond waited but a moment before the door unclasped and little Golden entered. She paused in the middle of the room, and said in her gentle voice: "You sent for me, Mrs. Desmond?" Mrs. Desmond lifted her eyes and looked at the beautiful girl whom she believed to be the wicked destroyer of her happiness. Golden shrank before the withering scorn of that look. "Oh, madam, is anything the matter?" she faltered. Mrs. Desmond rose and towered above her in all the dignity of her insulted wifehood. "Oh, no," she said, in a low, deep voice of concentrated passion, "there is very little the matter--only this trifle. You have shamelessly robbed me of my husband." "Madam!" cried Golden, in alarm and consternation. "You need not pretend innocence--you cannot deceive me," cried the outraged wife. "You have won his heart, you have stolen him from me, and you have forever ruined my life." "Oh, madam, who has told you this dreadful tale? It is not true. I would sooner die than wrong you," cried Golden, with pitiful earnestness. "Hush, do not lie to me," exclaimed Mrs. Desmond, lifting and pointing a scornful finger at the shrinking form. "Your looks declare your shame. Go, leave the house this moment wretched creature, before in my madness I lay violent hands on you!" But Golden did not go. She knelt down before her angry accuser, and looked up at her pleadingly. "Oh, Mrs. Desmond, you are mistaken! You wrong me bitterly by such a suspicion!" she cried, with the tears streaming down her fair cheeks. "Wrong you!" Mrs. Desmond cried, "are you not then----" she bent and fairly hissed the remaining words into the girl's ear. Golden threw up her hands with a cry of dismay. "Oh, my God, this is too horrible!" she wailed, "how can I bear it?" "Did I not speak the truth?" Mrs. Desmond demanded.