The two ladies enjoyed themselves very much—they had a cup of orange Pekoe from cups of priceless china, they talked of music, art, and books.
The pretty little clock chimed ten. Lady Chandos looked at her companion.
"You have not tried my piano yet," she said. "It was a wedding present from Lord Chandos to me; the tone of it is very sweet and clear."
"I will try it," said Madame Vanira. "May I look through the pile of music that lies behind it?"
Lady Chandos laughed at the eagerness with which Leone went on her knees and examined the music.
Just at that moment, when she was completely hidden from view, the door suddenly opened, and Lord Chandos hastily entered. Seeing his wife near, without looking around the room, in his usual caressing manner, he threw one arm round her, drew her to him, and kissed her.
It was that kiss which woke all the love, and passion, and jealousy in Leone's heart; it came home to her in that minute, and for the first time, that the husband she had lost belonged to another—that his kisses and caresses were never more to be hers, but would be given always to this other.
There was one moment—only one moment of silence; but while it lasted a sharp sword pierced her heart; the next, Lady Chandos, with a laughing, blushing face, had turned to her husband, holding up one white hand in warning.
"Lance," she cried, "do you not see Madame Vanira?"
She wondered why the words seemed to transfix him—why his face paled and his eyes flashed fire.