Part 60 (1/2)

”As you refuse to see my friends, I must go to meet them,” said Lord Chandos.

And then between husband and wife began one of those scenes which leave a mark on both their lives--cruel, hard, unjust and bitter words--hard and cruel thoughts.

Then Lady Chandos had her carriage called and went home.

CHAPTER LIV.

A MOTHER'S APPEAL.

”She would not bear it--she could not bear it,” this was Lady Marion's conclusion in the morning, when the sunbeams peeping in her room told her it was time to rise. She turned her face to the wall and said it would be easier to die--her life was spoiled, nothing could give her back her faith and trust in her husband or her love for him.

Life held nothing for her now. It was noon before she rose, and then she went to her boudoir. Lord Chandos had gone out, leaving no message for her. She sat there thinking, brooding over her sorrow, wondering what she was to do, when the Countess of Lanswell was announced.

Lady Marion looked up. It was as though an inspiration from Heaven had come to her; she would tell Lady Lanswell, and hear what she had to say.

”You have been crying,” said the countess, as she bent over her daughter-in-law. ”Crying, and how ill you look--what is the matter?”

”There is something very wrong the matter,” said Lady Marion. ”Something that I cannot bear--something that will kill me if it is not stopped.”

”My dearest Marion,” said the countess, ”what is wrong? I have never seen you so distressed before. Where is Lance?”

”I never know where he is now,” she said. ”Oh, Lady Lanswell, I am so miserable, so unhappy that I wish I were dead.”

This outbreak from Lady Marion, who was always so calm, so high-bred, so reticent in expressing her feelings, alarmed Lady Lanswell. She took the cold, trembling hands in her own.

”Marion,” she said, ”you must calm yourself; you must tell me what is the matter and let me help you.”

Lady Chandos told her all, and the countess listened in wondering amaze.

”Are you quite sure?” she said. ”Lady Ilfield exaggerates sometimes when she repeats those gossiping stories.”

”It must be true, since my husband acknowledged it himself, and yet refused to give me any explanation of it. Some time since, I found that he pa.s.sed so much of his time away from home I asked you if he had any friends with whom he was especially intimate, and you thought not. Now I know that it was Madame Vanira he went to see. She lives at Highgate, and he goes there every day.”

”I should not think much of it, my dear, if I were you,” said the countess. ”Madame Vanira is very beautiful and very accomplished--all gentlemen like to be amused.”

”I cannot argue,” said Lady Chandos; ”I can only say that my own instinct and my own heart tell me there is something wrong, that there is some tie between them. I know nothing of it--I cannot tell why I feel this certain conviction, but I do feel it.”

”It is not true, I am sure, Marion,” said the countess, gravely. ”I know Lance better than any one else; I know his strength, his weakness, his virtues, his failings. Love of intrigue is not one, neither is lightness of love.”

”Then if he cares nothing for Madame Vanira, and sees me unhappy over her, why will he not give her up?”

”He will if you ask him,” said Lady Lanswell.

”He will _not_. I have asked him. I have told him that the pain of it is wearing my life away; but he will not. I am very unhappy, for I love my husband.”

”And he loves you,” said the countess.

”I do not think so. I believe--my instinct tells me--that he loves Madame Vanira.”