Pique in a woman's mind, even in the mind of the best, finds a rival the

tool readiest to hand. A wave of crimson swept across Julia's pale face,

and she stood up on her feet. Lady Almeric! Lady Almeric Doyley! Here

was a revenge, the fittest of revenges, ready to her hand, if she could

bring herself to take it. What if, in the same hour in which he heard

that his plan had gone amiss, he heard that she was to marry another?

and such another that marry almost whom he might she would take

precedence of his wife. That last was a small thought, a petty thought,

worthy of a smaller mind than Julia's; but she was a woman, and

passionate, and the charms of such a revenge in the general, came home

to her. It would show him that others valued what he had cast away; it

would convince him--she hoped, him I yet, alas! she doubted--that she

had taken his suit as lightly as he had meant it. It would give her a

home, a place, a settled position in the world.

She followed it no farther; perhaps because she would act on impulse

rather than on reason, blindly rather than on foresight. In haste, with

trembling fingers, she set a chair below the broken, frayed end of a

bell-rope that hung on the wall. Reaching it, as if she feared her

resolution might fail before the event, she pulled and pulled

frantically, until hurrying footsteps came along the passage, and Mrs.

Olney with a foolish face of alarm entered the room.

'Fetch--tell the gentleman to come back,' Julia cried, breathing

quickly.

'To come back?' 'Yes! The gentleman who was here now.' 'Oh, yes, the gentleman,' Mrs. Olney murmured. 'Your ladyship wishes

him?' Julia's very brow turned crimson; but her resolution held. 'Yes, I wish

to see him,' she said imperiously. 'Tell him to come to me!' She stood erect, panting and defiant, her eyes on the door while the

woman went to do her bidding--waited erect, refusing to think, her face

set hard, until far down the outer passage--Mrs. Olney had left the door

open--the sound of shuffling feet and a shrill prattle of words heralded

Lord Almeric's return. Presently he came tripping in with a smirk and a

bow, the inevitable little hat under his arm. Before he had recovered

the breath the ascent of the stairs had cost him, he was in an attitude

that made the best of his white silk stockings.

'See at your feet the most obedient of your slaves, ma'am!' he cried.

'To hear was to obey, to obey was to fly! If it's Pitt's diamond you

need, or Lady Mary's soap-box, or a new conundrum, or--hang it all! I

cannot think of anything else, but command me! I'll forth and get it,

stap me if I won't!' 'My lord, it is nothing of that kind,' Julia answered, her voice steady,

though her cheeks burned.




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