The widow had admitted Victor Carrington to a more intimate acquaintance than the rest of her visitors; and it was fully understood between them that he knew of the attachment between herself and Sir Reginald. "Sir Reginald Eversleigh is my friend," replied Victor; "but do not think me treacherous, Madame Durski, when I tell you he is not worthy of your regard. Were he here at this moment, I would say the same. He is utterly selfish--it is of his own interest alone that he thinks; and were the chance of a wealthy marriage to offer itself, I firmly believe that he would seize it--ay! even if by doing so he knew that he was to break your heart. I think you know that I am speaking the truth, Madame Durski?" "I do," answered Paulina, in a dull, half despairing tone. "Heaven help me! I know that it is the truth. I have long known as much. We women are capable of supreme folly. My folly is my regard for your friend Reginald Eversleigh." "Let your pride work the cure of that wasted devotion, madame," said Victor, earnestly. "Do not submit any longer to be the dupe, the tool, of this man. Do you know how dearly your self-sacrifice has cost you? I am sure you do not. You do not know that this house is beginning to be talked about as a place to be shunned. You have observed, perhaps, that you have had few visitors of late. Day by day your visitors will grow fewer. This house is marked. It is talked of at the clubs; and Reginald Eversleigh will no longer be able to live upon the spoils won from his dupes and victims. The game is up, Madame Durski; and now that you can no longer be useful to Reginald Eversleigh, you will see how much his love is worth." "I believe he loves me," murmured Paulina, "after his own fashion." "Yes, madame, after his own fashion, which is, at the best, a strange one. May I ask how you spent your Christmas?" "I was very lonely; this house seemed horribly cold and desolate. No one came near me. There were no congratulations; no Christmas gifts. Ah! Mr. Carrington, it is a sad thing to be quite alone in the world." "And Reginald Eversleigh--the man whom you love--he who should have been at your side, was at Hallgrove Rectory, among a circle of visitors, flirting with the most notorious of coquettes--Miss Graham, an old friend of his boyish days." Victor looked at Paulina's face, and saw the random shot had gone home. She grew even paler than she had been before, and there was a nervous working of the lips that betrayed her agitation. "Were there ladies amongst the guests at Hallgrove?" he asked. "Yes, Madame Durski, there were ladies. Did you not know that it was to be so?" "No," replied Paulina. "Sir Reginald told me it was to be a bachelors' party." Victor saw that this petty deception on the part of her lover stung Paulina keenly. She had been deeply wounded by Reginald's cold and selfish policy; but until this moment she had never felt the pangs of jealousy.