There seemed to be a hidden meaning in Margaret’s words.
“I believe that I understand you, Miss Nugent,” Elaine said, coldly; “but I fail to appreciate your counsels. In some way my troubles began when I was weak enough to listen to your advice. I accepted it against my better judgment, and I beg of you not to refer to matters which particularly concern myself again. In my present loneliness I need friends badly enough, Heaven knows, but I can never associate you with anything but unpleasantness and misery. I feel that you are my enemy, and am only sorry that I did not make the discovery sooner. The very fact that you are a close associate of my oppressors precludes the possibility of any sympathy between us, and I shall consider it a favor if you will cease making any pretenses of affection for me in the future. I must now know upon whom I can depend, Miss Nugent, and I can neither accept you as a confidante nor an adviser. I am not superstitious, but there is a fatality about some people which it is impossible to withstand, and everything in connection with yourself has resulted in evil for me.”
“I am sorry,” Miss Nugent said, and her face was pale. “Can it be possible, Lady Elaine, that you regard me as a sort of evil genius?”
“That is just it. In some way I feel that you are my evil genius!” Elaine replied.
Without a word, Margaret Nugent turned away, and the two girls did not meet again for many months.
CHAPTER XV.
LADY GAYNOR SHOWS HER HAND.
A week passed, and Lady Elaine had been permitted to indulge in almost perfect seclusion, but at length a message was sent to her announcing that Lady Gaynor wished to see her in her boudoir.
The servant who delivered it glanced pityingly at the black-robed figure, and told the shabbily-dressed butler a little later that the atmosphere would soon be sultry.
The butler smiled, as only an upper servant can smile, and remarked: