“But you will understand clearly that to you I told a lie when I said that Madaline’s mother was a poor relative of the duke’s—­you know now what relationship there is between them.  Even Lady Peters does not know the truth.  She fancies that Madaline is the daughter of some friend of mine who, having fallen on evil days, has been glad to send her to me.

“Knowing you well, Norman, the accomplishment of my scheme was not difficult.  If I had brought Madaline to you and introduced her, you might not have been charmed; the air of mystery about her attracted you.  My warning against your caring for her would, I knew, also help to allure you.  I was right in every way.  I saw that you fell in love with her at once—­the first moment you saw her—­and then I knew my revenge was secured.

“I bought my husband the yacht on purpose that he might go away and leave me to work out my plans.  I knew that he could not resist the temptation I offered.  I knew also that if he remained in England he would want to know all about Madaline before he allowed you to marry her.  If the marriage was to take place at all, it must be during his absence.  You seemed, of your own free will, Norman, to fall naturally into the web woven for you.

“I write easily, but I found it hard to be wicked—­hard to see my lost love, my dear old companion, drift on to his ruin.

“More than once I paused, longing to save you; more than once I drew back, longing to tell you all.  But the spirit of revenge within me was stronger than myself—­my love had turned to hate.  Yet I could not quite hate you, Norman—­not quite.  Once, when you appealed to my old friendship, when you told me of your plans, I almost gave way.  ‘Norman!’ I cried, as you were leaving me; but when you turned again I was dumb.

“So I have taken my revenge.  I, Philippa, Duchess of Hazlewood on this your wedding-day, reveal to you the first stain on the name of Arleigh—­unvail the first blot on one of the noblest escutcheons in the land.  You have married not only a low-born girl, but the daughter of a felon—­a felon’s daughter is mistress of proud Beechwood!  You who scorned Philippa L’Estrange, who had the cruelty to refuse the love of a woman who loved you—­you who looked for your ideal in the clouds, have found it near a prison cell!  The daughter of a felon will be the mistress of the grand old house where some of the noblest ladies of the land have ruled—­the daughter of a felon will be mother of the heirs of Arleigh.  Could I have planned, prayed for, hoped for, longed for a sweeter revenge?

“I am indifferent as to what you may do in return.  I have lived for my revenge, and now that I have tasted it life is indifferent to me.  You will, of course, write to complain to the duke, and he, with his honest indignation justly aroused, will perhaps refuse to see me again.  I care not; my interest in life ended when my love died.

“Let me add one thing more.  Madaline herself has been deceived.  I told her that you knew all her history, that I had kept nothing from you, and that you loved her in spite of it, but that she was never to mention it to you.”