"What do you think I mean?" her dark eyes held an unfathomable expression, one that could not fail to stir his blood with excitement, with wonder and confusion; she held her head very high and her complexion flushed beneath the rouge; "when we are all damned together each shall know perhaps what the other meant, not before." With an air of bright and deep passion she moved towards the door; it seemed that she would leave without another word, nor did he offer to detain her, though his curious gaze was eagerly on her; but abruptly she stopped and looked back. "Are you not grown up yet, Marius?" she said wildly and softly. He stood perfectly still and she held out her hand. "Good-bye, Captain Lyndwood," she said quietly. "I will not ask you to see me to my carriage." He began some hot reply, but was interrupted; Susannah Chressham entered. "You, madam!" she said, sincerely surprised. The Countess gave her a veiled glance. "I am taking my departure, madam. I had a fancy to come in, but it is too late to stay." She lifted the heavy skirt off the twinkling paste on her shoes; certainly the most composed of the three. "I sang to Captain Lyndwood!" actually she laughed; "and he never commended it! What are our gallants coming to? Good-night, madam; _au revoir_, sir." She curtsied and was gone. Miss Chressham stared at her cousin. "What is this, Marius? she has not been here for months; and the hour and the manner of her leaving!" "I do not know anything of it," said Marius shortly. Miss Chressham crossed to the spinet. "How dare she play my instrument!" the fair countenance was angry. "And come here in this manner to my lady's house?" "I do not know," said Marius again, staring at the floor. Susannah looked up at him sharply. "I think you had better go to Paris," she said slowly. CHAPTER II BEDCHAMBER PLOTS The Countess Lavinia sat by the heavily curtained window, her hands idle in her lap; she wore a loose, slightly soiled white mob; her hair in front was twisted into paper curlers and hung straightly down her back behind, her bare feet were thrust into low blue slippers, and a fat little dog lay asleep on the edge of her striped petticoat. It was nearly midday, and the glaring sunshine without beat on the yellow blind and cast a close dun light into the large dark chamber, which was handsomely furnished and luxuriously untidy; on the inlaid dressing-table beside the Countess a cup of cold chocolate and a plate of Naples cakes stood among curling-irons, pots of rouge, and bottles of Hungary water; a bunch of dead flowers lay on the floor and a broken fan; over the back of a painted chair hung silk and velvet garments, and a black mask dangled from them by its fall of lace.