But the girl drew back with an imperial gesture of scorn.
"I want nothing," she said. "I have a few words to say to you in parting. I repeat that you are a wicked woman, Lady Lanswell, and that God will punish you for the wicked deed you have done. I say more, whether Heaven punishes you or not, I will. You have trampled me under your feet; you have insulted, outraged, tortured me. Listen to the word—you have tortured me; you have received me with scorn and contumely; you have laughed at my tears; enjoyed my prayers and humiliation. I swear that I will be revenged, even should I lose all on earth to win that revenge. I swear that you shall come and plead to me on your knees, and I will laugh at you. You shall plead to me with tears, and I will remind you how I have pleaded in vain. You have wrung my heart, I will wring yours. My revenge shall be greater than your cruelty; think, then, how great it will be."
"I repeat that I am not frightened," said the countess, but she shrunk from the fire of those splendid eyes.
"I was mad to think I should find a woman's heart in you. When the hour of my revenge comes, my great grief will be that I have a heart of marble to deal with!" cried Leone.
"You cannot have such great affection for your husband, if you speak to his mother in this fashion," said the countess, mockingly.
The girl stretched out her white arms with a despairing cry.
"Give me back my husband, and I recall my threats."
Then, seeing that mocking smile on that proud face, her arms fell with a low sigh.
"I am mad," she said, in a low voice, "to plead to you—quite mad!"
"Most decidedly," said the countess. "It appears to me there is more truth in that one observation than in any other you have made this evening. As I am not particularly inclined to the society of mad men or mad women, you will excuse me if I withdraw."