For a moment there is complete silence, while the wicked and vindictive woman glares with all the bitterness of baffled hate and vengeance upon her beautiful foe who had so nearly been her victim.

The Lady Vera speaks in a tone of cold and withering contempt:

"Could you not have been satisfied with the wrongs you have inflicted on me and mine, Marcia Cleveland, without attempting my life?"

"You should have known better than to think I could remain quiescent under your malicious vengeance! Did you think I could stand idly by and see you ruin my daughter's whole life without striking back at you?" the woman answers, sullenly.

"No, for I knew that there was too much of the venomous serpent in your nature," Lady Vera answers, with stinging scorn. "But I believe that even malevolence like yours would have shrunk abashed before such a terrible crime as this which you have attempted. Do you not tremble at the consequences of what you have done?"

"I have done nothing. I have only failed in what would have been a source of pride and joy to me if I had succeeded," Mrs. Cleveland answers, with sullen bravado.

"Infamous wretch!" Sir Harry Clive mutters audibly, while Colonel Lockhart, with a deathly-pale face and blazing eyes, appears to restrain himself with difficulty from springing upon her and tossing her out of the window.

"Should you indeed have been so glad to see me dead?" Lady Vera inquires, with a slight tone of mournfulness.

It seems incredible to her pure mind that this woman, in whose veins runs some slight strains of her own blood, being her mother's half-sister, could so coldly and heartlessly wish her dead—could even attempt to kill her.

"Yes, I should be glad to see you dead," Mrs. Cleveland answers, viciously. "I have hated Vera Campbell and wished her dead ever since she was born. I hated her mother before her. She robbed me of the only man I ever loved, and earned my eternal hate! And if you are really Edith Campbell's child, as you assert, be assured that I hate you, too, and wish you dead with all my heart!"

"Lady Vera, do not bandy words with the heartless creature! She can only wound you more and more," exclaims the baronet, indignantly. "Let us take her away. She contaminates the air we breathe."

For the first time a look of fear whitens the woman's reckless, daring face.

"Take me away—where?" she mutters, under her breath.

"To prison," Sir Harry answers, sternly, "to answer for your crime."

"Crime? I have committed no crime. I have not harmed a single hair of my lady's head," the woman answers, with sarcastic insolence.

"That is not your fault, woman," he answers, coldly and rebukingly. "You failed in the endeavor, but you shall pay dearly for the attempt. Have you done with her, Lady Vera? We are waiting on your pleasure."

Lady Vera stands silent a moment, regarding the wretched creature groveling on the floor in the cords with which they have securely bound her. In spite of her air of reckless bravado, Vera sees that her face is ghastly pale, and the dew of fear beads her brow. The angry eyes fall for the first time before the young girl's gaze of steady contempt. For a moment the silence continues, then Vera asks, clearly and calmly:

"Can I do anything for you, Mrs. Cleveland?"

"No," she answers, in an enraged snarl, like an angry canine.

Lady Vera continues, calmly:

"Pray understand me. I have no wish to wage further warfare upon you. With the fulfillment of my oath of vengeance my feud against you ended. I despise your hatred and your attempt to injure me, and I have no desire to punish you more than I have already done in obedience to my oath of vengeance. If there is anything I can do for you, speak."

Mrs. Cleveland looks wonderingly at the beautiful, calm, white face of the girl as she stands waiting for her answer.

"Do you mean that you will not prosecute me for this attempt on your life? That you will suffer me to go free?" she inquires in a doubtful tone, in which hope faintly struggles.

"Yes, I mean that, if you wish it—do you?" Vera asks, still quietly.

"Yes, but I hate to take a favor from you," the woman answers, sullenly.

"Do not take it as a favor. Consider that I am heaping coals of fire upon your head," Lady Vera answers, with a slight, cold laugh. "I choose to take my revenge that way. Sir Harry, will you please loose her bonds?"

The baronet looks his disapproval.

"Lady Vera, pray do not give way to such a Quixotic impulse," he urges. "If you do, this woman will live to make you regret it. You owe her no forbearance. I say let her suffer the penalty of the law for her attempted crime."

Lady Clive and Elsie echo his words, but the countess shakes her golden head.

"It is my wish that she shall go free," she answers, with resolution. "Colonel Lockhart, will you not loose her bonds?"

It is the first time she has seemed to be conscious of his presence. The deep color mantles her cheek as she speaks his name, and lifts a timid, appealing glance to him that makes his heart beat fast in his breast.

"Since you wish it, Lady Vera, yes," he answers, with a low bow, and hastens to execute her will, while the baronet, a little chagrined at her willfulness, looks silently on.

A moment and the strong cords that bind her enemy fall to the floor. Mrs. Cleveland rises erect and tall, and faces Vera.

"Do not expect me to thank you for this release," she says, bitterly. "Although I am glad to go free, I hate you if possible even more that you have had it in your power to do me a kindness."

"I expect no thanks," the countess answers icily. "I only desire to be rid of your presence." She lifts her white hand, and points commandingly at the door.

"Now go."

"One moment," exclaims the baronet. "How did you gain admittance to Lady Vera's bedchamber, and conceal yourself there?"

"By my woman's wit," she answers, curtly and decisively.

"Then, perhaps, you can find your way out in the same manner," the baronet rejoins, sarcastically.

"Perhaps so, but I think, on the whole, I should prefer a guide," she answers, with cool insolence.

"I am at your service, madam," Colonel Lockhart says, obeying a pleading look from Lady Vera, and preceding her to the door, followed by Sir Harry.

In a moment more, without word or backward glance, the wicked woman sweeps from the room.

Then Vera, broken down by the fierce strain upon her feelings, breaks down utterly, and weeps on Lady Clive's breast until she is thoroughly exhausted.

"You see it is all for the best to go away to-morrow," she has said to her friend. "Even my life is not safe here against the machinations of my relentless enemies."