Part 54 (1/2)

The door had closed.

He rose slowly from a chair near the fire, and walked towards her.

”_Dieu_! Jack! Why, what means this?” she cried in amazement, when she recognised him.

”You have company to-night,” observed the artist, without offering to shake hands. ”I thought it probable that, under the circ.u.mstances, you would not grant an interview to an old friend.”

”How absurd! Why, you must know you are always a welcome guest here,”

and she beamed upon him one of her sweetest smiles.

As she stood before him in the subdued light he gazed upon her in hesitation. Her costume was perfect, enhanced as it was by a sparkling diamond star in her hair and a necklet of exquisite brilliants. Her dress was of white silk, with very high sleeves, mounted in a sort of ball at the shoulder, hanging draperies from the arms representing wings, which expanded as she moved, and silver bands around a very high waist and under and across each arm.

”The welcome you accord me is somewhat premature,” he observed meaningly. ”No doubt you have a morbid satisfaction in seeing the man who is under your thrall--the miserable, deluded fool who stained his hands with a terrible crime for your sake, yet you--”

”Why refer to that horrid affair?”, she asked, shuddering slightly.

”Let's forget it.”

”No doubt you wish that dark page in your history to be closed,” he said ominously; ”but, strangely enough, it is upon that very subject I have sought this interview.”

”What do you want, pray?” she asked quickly.

”Merely to introduce two persons to you--old friends.”

”Old friends!” she echoed. ”Who are they?”

For answer, Egerton crossed the apartment and opened the door communicating with an ante-chamber. As he did so two persons advanced into the library.

”Gabrielle! Hugh!” she gasped, a look of sudden terror overspreading her countenance.

The tableau was well arranged and striking.

Valerie's glance s.h.i.+fted in alarm from one to the other, while her three visitors looked upon her in silence, with expressions of calm, confident determination.

Hugh Trethowen's countenance was careworn and pale; his whole appearance was that of a man weighed down by profound grief. The sufferings and privations had aged him considerably, yet there were in his face traces of some new feeling. His mouth, as a rule so serious, actually smiled; his look had more animation than it was wont to have, and altogether he had somewhat about him which was at once sad, malevolent, and self-satisfied.

”I--I did not expect this pleasure,” the adventuress stammered, with bitter sarcasm, without asking them to be seated.

The icy reception did not astonish them. They were fully prepared to meet the pa.s.sionate wrath which they knew would be stirred within her.

”We are unwelcome, no doubt,” said Gabrielle Debriege, with a cynical smile. ”Nevertheless, it is a long time, madame, since you and I met.”

”And what have I to do with you, pray?” cried Hugh's wife, drawing herself up to her full height, and standing erect before them. ”It is gross impudence for a woman of such reputation as yourself to claim my acquaintance. I do not forget what you were in Paris.”

”Oh, indeed!” replied mademoiselle. ”Before you asperse my character, think of your own.”

”Who dares to defame me?” she asked indignantly.

”I do,” declared mademoiselle.

This bold reply caused the colour to flee from her cheeks, for the object of their visit began to dawn upon her.