Then a sudden resolution came to Lady Darrell. She rose from her seat, and, with the rich robe of silver and white sweeping around her, she went to the end of the room where Pauline was standing, tall, stately, and statuesque, turning over the leaves of a book. The contrast between the two girls--the delicate beauty of the one, and the grand loveliness of the other--was never more strongly marked. Lady Darrell laid her white hand, shining with jewels, on Pauline's arm. She looked up into her proud face. "Pauline," she said, gently, "will you not be friends? We have to live together--will you be friends?" "No!" replied Miss Darrell, in her clear, frank voice. "I gave you warning. You paid no heed to it. We shall never be friends." A faint smile played round Lady Darrell's lips. "But, Pauline, do you not see how useless all your resentment against me is now? My marriage with Sir Oswald has taken place, and you and I shall have to live together perhaps for many years--it would be so much better for us to live in peace." The proud face wore its haughtiest look. "It would be better for you, perhaps, Lady Darrell, but it can make no difference to me." "It can, indeed. Now listen to reason--listen to me!" and in her eagerness Lady Darrell once more laid her hand on the girl's arm. Her face flushed as Pauline drew back, with a look of aversion, letting the jeweled hand fall. "Listen, Pauline!" persevered Lady Darrell. "You know all this is nonsense--sheer nonsense. My position now is established. You can do nothing to hurt me--Sir Oswald will take good care of that. Any attempt that you may make to injure me will fall upon yourself; besides, you know you can do nothing." In spite of her words, Lady Darrell looked half-fearfully at the girl's proud, defiant face. "You may have all kinds of tragic plans for vengeance in your mind, but there are no secrets in my life that you can find out to my discredit--indeed, you cannot injure me in any possible way." She seemed so sure of it, yet her eyes sought Pauline's with an anxious, questioning fear. "Now, I, on the contrary," she went on, "can do much for you--and I will. You are young, and naturally wish to enjoy your life. You shall. You shall have balls and parties, dresses--everything that you can wish for, if you will only be friends with me." She might as well have thrown drops of oil on an angry ocean to moderate its wrath. "Lady Darrell," was the sole reply, "you are only wasting your time and mine. I warned you. Twenty years may elapse before my vengeance arrives, but it will come at last." She walked away, leaving the brilliant figure of the young bride alone in the bright lamp-light. She did not leave the room, for Sir Oswald entered at the moment, carrying a small, square parcel in his hand. He smiled as he came in. "How pleasant it is to see so many fair faces!" he said. "Why, my home has indeed been dark until now."