Who would he imagine was his visitor? The name which Madge had given to the servant was hers by right, but she had never used it, and so long and so completely had they been estranged that her husband would probably not think of her in connexion with it. Upon that utter oblivion of her, or, if that were wanting, upon his fear of creating a disturbance in his friend's house, Madge relied for her interview with her husband. The seeking of that interview was voluntary on her part, had not been decided upon until after full consideration and discussion, and must be gone through with now, even when she heard his step approaching the door. Not his footstep after all, but, by its lightness and its fleetness, a woman's. Next moment the door opened and a woman entered the room. A woman of middle height, but full and rounded figure, set off with flowing draperies and clouds of delicate lace. Queenly in her walk and movements, and of a flashing and disdainful beauty, with large liquid dark eyes, clear cat aquiline profile, mouth undoubtedly small, but yet with full and sensuous lips, and a mass of lustrous black hair twisted into a coronet on her head. She swept into the room arranging the train of her dress with one hand, and with the other motioning to Madge, who had risen, to resume her chair. 66 66 Pray be seated," said the lady, with a pleasant smile, and in a rich full voice; you asked to see Mr. Vane, I believe ?" "I-I did," said Madge, nervous with surprise, and with her intuition of the identity of the person addressing her. There was a singular contrast between these women. Madge pale as death, neatly, almost primly, dressed, nervous and ill at ease; the other with a glowing complexion, richly and tastefully attired, and perfectly self-composed. "I am sorry," she said, "that you should have been misled by the stupid blunder of a servant. You were told that Mr. Vane was stopping in this house, but the fact is that he left here yesterday morning, having been summoned away by a telegram on business of importance." "Is this true?" said Madge, half voluntarily. in The lady started and looked amazed, but said nothing. "I beg your pardon," said Madge, "I 66 did not mean to say that, I had no right to say it. Will Mr. Vane be long away ?" "I cannot say," said the lady, in an altered tone, nor can I continue to hold a conversation with one who is a perfect stranger to me! Perhaps," she continued, rising, "perhaps you will leave your card, that Mr. Vane may have it on his return ?" "I have no card," said Madge, firmly, "but I gave my name to the servant, who showed me into this room." "The man made a worse blunder than when he told you that Mr. Vane was staying here," said the lady, with curling lip, "for he announced you as Mrs. Vane." 66 "He delivered his message correctly in that instance, at least," said Madge, for that was the name gave him.” "You are a connexion of Mr. Vane's, I suppose ?" "I am." "May I ask what connexion ?” "I am Philip Vane's wife." Madge had steadied her voice for this announcement, and spoke very quietly, without the smallest trace of theatrical intonation, without the slightest gesture, each word clipping clearly and distinctly out of her lips. The words thus quietly pronounced were not, however, without their effect; the lady who heard them seemed to reel, and leaned against the mantelpiece, before which she had been standing. For an instant she looked across at Madge dreamily, and with dazed eyes, repeating the words she had heard in a thick, low tone, "His wife did you say; Philip Vane's wife ?" "I am Philip Vane's wife," repeated Madge, in the same clear, merciless tone. "You, I conclude, are Mrs. Bendixen, the lady to whom, as the newspapers announced, my husband is about to be married. I am sorry," continued Madge, changing her tone," to be compelled to interfere with your intended arrangements, but you will see that the step which you contemplated is impossible. I am Mrs. Philip Vane, and however poor my opinion may be of that position, I intend to claim and hold it for my own." As she spoke she drew herself up, stamped her foot, and threw out her hand with a gesture which was familiar to her, and at which Philip Vane had so often sneered. There was defiance in that action, defiance in her kindling eyes, defiance in her ringing voice. Mrs. Bendixen, now thoroughly roused, leaned forward, looking eagerly at her visitor, but she had miscalculated the nature of the woman with whom she had to deal, for she said, half querulously, half fiercely: How dare you speak to me in this way! How dare you come into my presence! I know what the world is, and what sort of lives men lead, and I dare say you have been accustomed to call yourself Mrs. Vane, and imagine you have a kind of right to do so; but of course there must be an end of that now. What do you look at me for in that way? Do you mean to say that you don't understand me?" "I mean to say," said Madge, who had lapsed into stone again, and sat with her steady, cold, pitiless gaze on the other woman's face, "I mean to say you are talking in riddles, and that if you want me to comprehend you, you must speak more plainly." "Then I tell you," said Mrs. Bendixen, in a loud and shrill tone, which she moderated, when she recollected the proximity of the hall, where the servants were still engaged―" then I tell you that I dare say you may have called yourself Mrs. Vane, because you were Mr.-Mr. Vane's mistress; that he gave you money, and perhaps kept a house for you, and-and was fond of you! I know such things go on, but,' she added, the colour rising in her cheeks, and her eyes flashing, "there must be an end to all that! You have doubtless come here to ask for money? If so, you shall have it. I will take care of that, but you must not see Mr. Vane again, nor talk of yourself as his wife. You must not repeat that wicked lie!" She paused and leaned forward eagerly to see the effect which her words had created. There was anxiety in her eyes, in the manner with which from time to time she moistened her lips, in the irrepressible fluttering motion of the hands which lay in her lap before her. By her words she had tried to impress on her visitor her own conviction of the truth of her statement; but her look and her involuntary action had the opposite effect. "What I have said," said Madge, still holding her with her eyes, "is no lie, but God's truth! The lies which have been told you in this matter have come from him, not from me! I am Philip Vane's lawful wife! Of that fact I can give you proofs-but there is no need of that," she said, changing her tone, "I see you know it now, as you listen to me. Look at me! If you really have such a knowledge of the world as you profess, you will recognise at once that I am not of the stuff of which mistresses are made-I am Philip Vane's wife! Do you believe me?" "I-I almost fear I do," said Mrs. Bendixen, still bending forward in her chair, and gazing at the pale, grave face and neat figure before her. "It matters little to me whether you do or do not," said Madge, with a slight curl of her lip, "the fact remains, and can be proved at any moment. Now listen to me! When you tried to persuade yourself that my assertion was a lie, and that I was what you said you pretended to think that I had come here for money. What do you think, now, is the motive of my visit ?" "I-cannot tell," stammered Mrs. Bendixen, "unless it is revenge. You seem a dreadfully determined woman." "Do I?" said Madge, as the faint glimmer of a contemptuous smile passed across her face. "I do not think that I am dreadfully determined; I am perfectly sure that I have no desire for revenge. Revenge on whom? On you? You have been passive in this matter; your part has been merely that of the dupe! On Philip Vane? One cannot be revenged on the dead, and Philip Vane is as dead to me as if I had seen him in his shroud." "Oh, don't talk in that dreadful manner," cried Mrs. Bendixen, with a moan, then covering her face with her hands, she added, "Oh, what do you want? why did you come here ?" "To save you from a worse fate even than that which has befallen me. Not that I care for you one straw; you are nothing to me, as he is nothing to me, and, so far as I am concerned, you might both of you have gone on your way unchecked and unwarned, but I do not choose to see this crime committed where I have the power of stopping it, and if it be stopped, Philip Vane will have his vanity to thank, and nothing else. That vanity is overweening; it led him to make public his conquest. He announced in the newspapers that he was engaged to be married to you, and thus I heard of it." "I don't see what there was to induce Mr. Vane to put it in the newspapers!" moaned Mrs. Bendixen. "Don't you?" said Madge. "I do. Your name, your position, and your attractions are well known in the world to which Philip Vane now belongs, and the fact of having secured them would tell undoubtedly in his favour. He meant to marry you as he had previously married me, for the sake of living upon you. But his last marriage would have proved infinitely more successful than his first. You were something to win; your beauty is self evident, your wealth and position generally acknowledged. When he married me, I was a poor actress in a country theatre, with sufficient good looks to win his eye, and a sufficient salary to keep him in tolerable comfort. They must have been poor enough, my appearance and my earnings, for when he had once possessed himself of both they had not enough attraction to induce him to acknowledge me as his wife, and so soon as he saw his way to effectually ridding himself, he deserted me: the ladder had served its purpose, he I could afford to kick it down." "I am sure you judge Mr. Vane most unjustly," said Mrs. Bendixen, raising her face from her hands. "He is the most generous of men. His affection for me is quite disinterested, and it is too, too cruel to speak of him in this way." 66 When you have known him as long as I have known him, I will ask you for your verdict on his character," said Madge, quietly; "not that I expect that even then you would say of him what I say, for you would not have the cause." "You allow that," cried Mrs. Bendixen; "that shows that he was not entirely to blame." "It shows simply that you from your plenty can give him all he longs for, wealth, ease, luxury, the position in the eyes both of men and women to which he has aspired; while I from my poverty could only fend off hunger and cold, could only bar the door against the wolf, could only find the platform whence he should spring into competence, leaving me behind him. He deserted me because I could do so little, he will hold to you since you can do so much." "And he shall hold to me," cried Mrs. Bendixen, springing to her feet; "your last words have thoroughly determined me. See here, woman. I believe all you say. There is something in your voice, in your manner, which prevents my disbelieving it, much as I wish to do so. But I tell you I love Philip Vane, love him with a fervour which you, with your pale puny passion, cannot for an instant imagine. He has become essential to my life, and I have never yet known what it was to have one aspiration checked, one wish thwarted. I have been married before, you know that. The man who took me from a boardingschool to be his wife gave me all that I then thought the world contained, power, riches, admiration. But it was not until after his death, it was not until I met Mr. Vane, that I knew the happiness of loving and being loved. Ah, do not take that happiness from me; do not, I implore you, dissipate that dream! You speak of yourself as one to whom the pleasures of life are at an end, but in your time you have enjoyed that greatest joy of all. Why then grudge it to me ?" "You are talking at random," said Madge, coldly, "and I am unable to follow you. What influence can I have over your future beyond pointing out to you the impossibility of the course you propose to yourself to pursue ? What would you wish me to do?" "To go away, anywhere, in any country, to hide yourself, and never to come near me again. The good luck which has attendeď me throughout my lifetime has prevented your seeing Mr. Vane to-day. The dreadful secret which you have just uttered is known to us alone. It must never go further, nay, more than that, he must never know that I am aware of its existence, never be reminded of it himself. I will buy it of you at what price you like. You have only to name the sum and it is yours.' Supposing I were to do as you ask, how would your position be improved? You, with the gratified desires, and the unchecked wishes of which you have boasted, have purchased Philip Vane's love, or what is equivalent to it, and now wish to purchase my silence! Suppose I agree, how is your position improved? The world will believe you to be Philip Vane's wife, but you will know yourself "Do you think I care what the world thinks of me or what I think of myself?" cried Mrs. Bendixen. "I tell you I love this man, and that I will not have him taken from me. Have you no understanding, have you no compassion ?" "I have no patience to listen to ravings which would be wearisome from a love-sick girl, but which are contemptible in a woman. I did not seek to be Philip Vane's judge, but fate seems to have appointed me to be his executioner. I have given you due warning, and I absolve myself if you choose to share his fate. Now let me pass. I will leave this place." And she rose and dropped her veil, and drew her mantle round her. "Stay!" said Mrs. Bendixen. "You must not leave in this manner. You have said that you care no longer for Philip Vane; that you regard him as dead to you; and yet you will not leave him to me! Ah, spare him, I implore you! I have looked forward so eagerly to the time when I should be his wife. I have reckoned so upon giving to him a love which no one hitherto has been able to evoke, that if he is torn from me I shall go mad. Oh, see me at your feet and spare me!" As she uttered these words she dropped from her chair on to her knees, and lifted her hands in supplication. The large tears welled into her upturned eyes, and her hair, which had become unfastened, hung about her pale face. "It is a pretty picture," said Madge, dreamily, looking down on the woman at her feet," and devotion such as this is certainly thrown away on its object. Come, madam!" she cried, 66 rouse yourself, and let us put an end to this scene. You ask me to let your marriage with my husband take place without opposition; even if I would, I am powerless to do so. The secret is not mine alone, but is in the keeping of those who have a greater regard for my position than I have myself, and who are determined that it shall not be thus wantonly outraged." "You are implacable, then?" said Mrs. Bendixen, rising and throwing back her hair. "I am merely indifferent," said Madge, coldly. "As indifferent to your fate as to his. I came here to warn him of the consequences of the act which he contemplated, and I found you in his place. In those consequences you are equally interested, and my warning has been given to you. My duty is done. Let me pass!" "One moment yet," cried Mrs. Bendixen. "Will the fact that you have given this warning to me content you? Will you swear that you will seek no further opportunity of letting him know your intentions towards him ?" "I see your meaning now," said Madge, looking straight at her with cold unsparing eyes. "Your passion for this man has so demented you, that you will hurry on this marriage, which will be no marriage, and accept yourself the position which you imputed to me at the commencement of our interview. Is not that so ?" "I do not deny it," said Mrs. Bendixen, excitedly. "I have set my mind upon it, and I will carry it through. I should glory in "You are mad!" interrupted Madge. "Do you not see that if you were married to Philip Vane, and that marriage were proved illegal, he would be a convicted felon? Or even suppose he evaded the law, his position would be lost, his power and prestige, all that makes life pleasant to him, gone for ever! You have romantic dreams, I suppose, of some sunny paradise, where you and he could live and love for ever. He would weary of you in a month, and when he found that you had been warned in time of the impending danger, and had neglected to inform him of it, he would kill you!" "He might," said Mrs. Bendixen, "he might kill me then; at least I should have known his love." "And with that charming sentiment we will close the discussion," said Madge, slightly shrugging her shoulders. "Hear my last words, for we shall never meet again. The man for whom you are sacrificing yourself is treacherous and base, mean and cowardly. He has not even the one redeeming virtue of independence, but so soon as he gets the opportunity, will live on you as he lived on me, and as he abandoned me he will, should it so suit his purpose, abandon you. I was young and inexperienced when I became his victim, you are a matured woman of the world, and have, besides, my example before you, and I warn you to profit by it. If you fall it will be with your eyes open, and in defiance of the hands spread forth to hold you back. But you will fall, for you are a woman and infatuated!" She turned the handle of the door as she uttered these last words, and let herself out. Mrs. Bendixen made a faint effort to detain her, but Madge drew her clinging dress more closely round her, and, with the faintest inclination of her head, passed by. The hall was empty now, as, she could see through the open door, was the diningroom. On the croquet-lawn a few players were idly knocking about the balls, and under the verandah, immediately outside the hall-door, some gentlemen were seated in lounging-chairs, smoking and drinking. One or two of them raised their hats as she passed by, and each of them honoured her with a hearty stare. Madge passed steadily on, outwardly calm and grave, inwardly perturbed and excited. "It is over," she said to herself. "I have discharged my duty, satisfied the promptings of my conscience, and obeyed the bidding of Mr. Drage. What has been gained by so doing is another matter; little enough, I should imagine. That woman, ignorant, unschooled, and impulsive, is madly in love, and will allow nothing to come between her and her object. Strange that I should have seen her, and that hecalled away suddenly, she said he was, called away by telegram on important |