"Could we not have bought such a place?" she said. "Ay, and finer, Honoria! Could we not have paid for them with pieces across the counter in our tradesmen's way, sooner than have made this bargain of scorn for hate, sooner than have given our all for this unendurable position?" The misty moonshine fell over her close dark hair and slender figure. Her face was in shadow, and she supported herself by resting one frail white hand against the cold cedar trunk behind her. "Listen to me." The maid spoke with gathered energy. "You are the Countess of Lyndwood, and that means you may do what you will, with all of them, my lady. Consider that." "I have no power," answered her mistress, "to do anything." "If a man's wife hath not the power to ruin him, one way or another, I know not who hath, my lady. They make nothing of you now, but in a year hence, in two years hence you might have your foot on all of them." The Countess Lavinia slowly turned her head and fixed her distended eyes on the speaker. "Be discreet," continued the little maid, "and who knows what you may put between my lord and his brother, and between these two proud ladies of his? There is always Mr. Hilton behind you with the money, and he will love you if you go on smoothly with my lord, and become a great lady of fashion." She moved closer and gently touched her mistress's arm. "Ye took comfort always in Mr. Marius. Well, ye may have him back, and all discreetly, only we must be cunning. It is fine manners, my lady, will avail you now. Do you not suppose that my lord would be pleased to see you in the sulks that he might shut you away here under his mother's espionage? Be wary, my lady, and gay and pleasant, and go with him to London. Hold your own." "There is sense in what you say," answered the Countess, in a deep breath. "But Marius Lyndwood is going away." "He will come back; and there are others." The two women looked at one another. "Oh, a great lady may do much!" cried Honoria, "and still be a great lady. My lord is the most famous rake in town. His wife will be allowed a fair margin." The Countess Lavinia was familiar with tales of her husband--servants' tales. She had discussed them with Honoria every day since her marriage, taking a pleasure in anything that was to his discredit, as some set-off to his scorn of her. Much of what she heard was false, but she knew more of the truth about things than any save her maid guessed. Marius had thought her soft, simple, divine. Her father believed her ignorant of all save what the boarding-school had taught. My lord held her raw, knowing nothing of the world; and they were all of them deceived. She was silent now, pondering, and her dark eyes were fixed blankly on the distant argent glimmer of the lake.