And the fair face looked wistfully in her own.
Leone was silent for a few minutes; she could not look in those clear eyes and speak falsely.
"Yes," she answered, slowly; "I think Lord Chandos cares very much for me; I know that he admires and likes me."
Lady Marion looked very much relieved. There could surely be no harm in their friendship if she could speak of it so openly.
"And you, madame—oh, tell me truly—do you love him? Tell me truly; it seems that all my life hangs on your word."
Again the beautiful face drooped silently before the fair one.
"It would be so easy for me to tell you a falsehood," said Leone, while a great crimson flush burned her face, "but I will not. Yes, I—I love him. Pity me, you who love him so well yourself; he belongs to you, while I—ah, pity me because I love him."
And Lady Marion, whose heart was touched by the pitiful words, looked up and kissed her.
"I cannot hate you, since you love him," she said. "He is mine, but my heart aches for you. Now let me tell you what I have come to say. You are good and noble as I felt you were. I have come to ask a grace from you, and it is easier now that I know you love him. How strange it seems. I should have thought that hearing you say that you loved my husband would have filled my heart with hot anger, but it does not; in some strange way I love you for it."
"If you love him, madame, his interests must be dear to you."