The chandelier that hung from the ceiling gave but a subdued light that helped her but little. At last she thought she had found her own door; she judged it to be her own because it was partly open and she saw, through the vista of the three rooms, the little coal fire that burned dimly in the last one. So she silently crossed the hall, walking on the soft deep drugget, into which her footsteps sank noiselessly, as she entered what she supposed to be her own boudoir. The room was dark, except from the gleam of light that stole in from the chandelier in the hall, and the dull glow of the coal fire that might be dimly seen in the distant dressing room, at the end of the suite. Claudia, however, had no sooner entered the room and looked around than she discovered that it was not hers. This suite of apartments was arranged upon the same plan as her own--first the boudoir, then the bed chamber, and last the dressing room with the little coal fire; but--the hangings were different; for, where hers had been golden brown, these were rosy red. And she was about to retire and close the door softly when the sound of voices in the adjoining room arrested her steps. The first that spoke was the voice of Faustina, in tones of passionate grief and remonstrance. She was saying: "But to bring her here! here, of all the places in the world! here, under my own very eyes! Ah!" "My angel, I had a design in bringing her here, a design in which your future honor and happiness is involved," said the voice of Lord Vincent, in such tones of persuasive tenderness as he had never used in speaking to his betrayed and miserable wife. "My honor and happiness! Ah!" cried the woman with a half-suppressed shriek. "Faustina, my beloved, listen to me!" entreated the viscount. "Do not love her! Do not, Malcolm! If you do I warn you that I shall kill her!" wildly exclaimed the woman, interrupting him. "My angel, I love only you. How can you doubt it?" "How can I doubt it? Because you have deceived me. Not once, nor twice, nor thrice; but always and in everything, from first to last!" "Deceived you, Faustina! How can you say so? In what have I ever deceived you? Not in vowing that I love you; for I do! You must know it. How, then, have I deceived you?" "You promised to make me your viscountess." "And I will do so. I swear it to you, Faustina." "Ah, you have sworn so many oaths to me." "I will keep them all--trust me! I would die for you; would go to perdition for you, Faustina!" "You will keep all your oaths to me, you say?" "All of them, Faustina!" "One of them is, that you will make me your viscountess!" "Yes, and I will do it, my angel. Who but yourself should share my rank with me? I will make you my viscountess, Faustina." "How can you do that, even if you wished to do so? She is your viscountess." "Yes, for a little while; and for a little while only. Until she has served the purpose for which I married her--and no longer," said the viscount.