“I heard you explain it all to Bayard last night--heard Prince Gonzaga go over the whole ground again to-day, and I wish to hear no more on the subject. Your duplicity and deceit have planted in my trusting heart a thorn that will never cease to rankle,” she answered bitterly. Fair’s face went ghastly white, and her big, reproachful eyes made Mrs. Howard feel uneasy, so she said jeeringly, to throw off the pity that threatened to overcome her ideas of justice: “Confess, now, that you are glad your husband is rich and titled. You are the Princess Gonzaga. Did you think of that? It is a proud title, and will make you equally honored and envied.” But a moan of the bitterest pain came from Fair’s poor, blanched lips. “Oh, madam, never call me by that name again!” she cried imploringly. “I hate that man. I despise him and fear him. If he were a king, I would not share his throne!” “You are his wife, and you will be compelled to share his lot. I warn you that he is desperate. Make up with him, and he will adore you. Deny him, and I do not believe he would hesitate to kill you,” said Mrs. Howard; but the obstinate creature only answered, as before: “I would rather have his hate than his love.” And suddenly lifting her anguished eyes, she exclaimed: “Do you not know that I love Bayard Lorraine with my whole heart?” “That is a sin,” reproved the good woman; but Fair answered: “If it be a sin, it is one of which I never can repent so long as I live, and I will be no man’s wife but Bayard Lorraine’s.” “You are already another man’s wife,” severely. “In name only,” Fair answered, in dreary exultation. “And as for Bayard Lorraine, he would consider your words of just now an insult,” continued Mrs. Howard coldly, and she added, after a moment: “If he ever knows anything again--which is doubtful, as he has lain in a deadly stupor since last night--I feel sure that he will advocate the justice of Prince Gonzaga’s claim, and insist that you return to your husband.” “You really believe this?” Fair cried wildly, with dilated eyes. “Yes.” “And you, too--you take the part of this cruel prince against me?” “Yes; for you have wronged him bitterly from the first, and you should crave his pardon and try to atone to him for your unkindness in the past,” said Mrs. Howard decisively, for Fair’s declaration of love for Bayard Lorraine had alarmed her, and she saw in it a new element of danger for all, so she advocated the prince’s cause most zealously. But Fair only refused, in despairing defiance, to see or hold any communication with her husband. “Tell him I will never see him,” she reiterated, but Mrs. Howard answered: “That is rash, foolish! You are in his own house, and you are his own wife. He will enter your presence by force, if you persist in this silly refusal.” Fair sprang to her feet with a horrified face. “Do you mean to tell me that you will not protect me from that wretch?” she panted wildly.