“When you had gone away, when I was left alone, I fell on my knees and swore to be revenged.  I vowed vengeance against you, no matter what it might cost.  Again let me quote to you the lines: 

    “’Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned,
    Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.’

You scorned me—­you must suffer for it.  I swore to be revenged, but how was I to accomplish my desire?  I could not see any way in which it was possible for me to make you suffer.  I could not touch your heart, your affections, your fortune.  The only thing that I could touch was your pride.  Through your pride, your keen sensitiveness I decided to stab you; and I have succeeded!  I recovered my courage and my pride together, made you believe that all that had passed had been jest, and then I told you that I was going to marry the duke.

“I will say no more of my love or my sorrow.  I lived only for vengeance, but how my object was to be effected I could not tell.  I thought of many plans, they were all worthless—­they could not hurt you as you had hurt me.  At last, one day, quite accidentally I took up ‘The Lady of Lyons,’ and read it through.  That gave me an idea of what my revenge should be like.  Do you begin to suspect what this present is that the Duchess of Hazlewood intends making to you on your wedding-day?”

As he read on his face grew pale.  What could it mean—­this reference to “The Lady of Lyons?” That was the story of a deceitful marriage—­surely all unlike his own.

“You are wondering.  Turn the page and you shall read that, when an idea once possesses a woman’s mind, she has no rest until it is carried out.  I had none.  My vengeance was mapped out for me—­it merely required filling in.  Let me show you how it was filled up—­how I have lied to you, who to another have never uttered a false word.

“Years ago we had a maid whom my mother liked very much.  She was gentle, well-mannered, and well-bred for her station in life.  She left us, and went to some other part of England.  She married badly—­a handsome, reckless ne’er-do-well, who led her a most wretched life.

“I know not, and care nothing for the story of her married life, her rights and wrongs.  How she becomes of interest to you lies in the fact that shortly after my marriage she called to see me and ask my aid.  She had been compelled to give up her home in the country and come to London, where, with her husband and child, she was living in poverty and misery.  While she was talking to me the duke came in.  I think her patient face interested him.  He listened to her story, and promised to do something for her husband.  You will wonder how this story of Margaret Dornham concerns you.  Read on.  You will know in time.

“My husband having promised to assist this man, sent for him to the house; and the result of that visit was that the man seeing a quantity of plate about, resolved upon helping himself to a portion of it.  To make my story short, he was caught, after having broken into the house, packed up a large parcel of plate, and filled his pockets with some of my most valuable jewels.  There was no help for it but to prosecute him, and his sentence was, under the circumstances, none too heavy, being ten years’ penal servitude.