"Lady Vincent, this is Mrs. Dugald," said the viscount. Claudia drew back a step, and bent her head with an air of the most freezing hauteur. Mrs. Dugald also bent hers, but immediately threw it up and shook it back with a smile. So graceful was this motion that it can be compared to nothing but the bend and rebound of a lily. But when Claudia looked up she detected a strange glance of intelligence between her two companions. The beauty's eyes flashed from their sheath of softness and gleamed forth upon the man--two living stilettos pointed with death. His look expressed annoyance and fear. He turned away and touched the bell. "Let dinner be served immediately," he said to the servant who answered the summons. "Dinner is served, my lord," answered the man, pushing aside the sliding doors opening into the dining room. Lord Vincent waved his hand to Lady Vincent to precede them, and then gave his arm to Mrs. Dugald to follow her. But when they reached the dining room Mrs. Dugald left his arm, advanced to the head of the table, and stood with her hand upon the back of the chair and her gaze upon the face of the viscount. "No; Lady Vincent will take the head of the table," said his lordship, giving his hand to Claudia and installing her. "As you will; but 'where the MacDonald sits, there is the head of the table,'" said Mrs. Dugald, quoting the haughty words of the Lord of the Isles, as she gave way and subsided into a side seat. Lord Vincent, with a lowering brow, sat down. Old Cuthbert, who sometimes officiated as butler, placed himself behind his lord's chair, and two footmen waited on the table. The dinner was splendid in its service, and luxurious in its viands; but most uncomfortable in its company, and it suggested the Scripture proverb: "Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith." Claudia, for one, was glad when it was over, and they were permitted to return to the saloon, where coffee awaited them. "Mrs. Dugald, will you give me some music?" said Lord Vincent, in the course of the evening. The beauty arose, and floated away in her soft, swimming gait towards the piano. Lord Vincent went after her and opened the instrument; and when she sat down he stood behind her chair to turn over the music. She played a brilliant prelude, and then commenced singing. Claudia, who, at the proposition that Mrs. Dugald should give Lord Vincent "some music," had shrugged her shoulders and turned her back, was now startled. She turned around--listened. Claudia was a most fastidious connoisseur of music, and she recognized in this performer an artiste of the highest order. Claudia had heard such music as this only from the best opera singers--certainly from no unprofessional performer. After executing a few brilliant pieces the beautiful musician arose with a weary air and, saying that she was tired, courtesied, smiled, and withdrew from the room. Lord Vincent walked slowly up and down the floor.