"You are sitting up late, my lady. I should think you would be tired after your long journey," he said, as he took another armchair and seated himself opposite to her.
"I was just thinking of retiring," answered Claudia, putting severe constraint upon herself.
"But since I find you sitting up, if it will not fatigue you too much, I will answer some questions you asked me concerning Mrs. Dugald," said his lordship.
"Yes?" said Claudia, scarcely able to breathe the single syllable.
"Yes. You inquired of me who she was. I told you she was my sister. You did not believe me; but you should have done so, for I told you the truth. She is my sister."
Scarcely able to restrain her indignation at this impudent falsehood, and fearful of trusting the sound of her own voice, Claudia answered in a low tone:
"I supposed that you were jesting with my curiosity. I knew, of course, that your sisters were titled ladies. Mrs. Dugald is an untitled one, therefore she could not be your sister; nor could she be your sister-in-law, since you are an only son."
"You are mistaken in both your premises: Mrs. Dugald is my sister- in-law, and is a titled lady, since she is the widow of my younger half-brother, the Honorable Kenneth Dugald," said the viscount triumphantly.
"I never heard that your deceased brother had been married," answered Claudia coolly.
"No? Why, bless you, yes! About four years ago he married the beauty over whom all Paris was going raving mad. She was the prima donna of the Italian opera in Paris. But the marriage was not pleasing to the earl, who is severely afflicted with the prejudices of his rank. He immediately disowned his son, the Honorable Kenneth, never speaking to him again during his, Kenneth's, life. And more than that, he carried his resentment beyond the grave; for even after Kenneth died of a fever contracted in the Crimea, and his widow was left unprovided for, and with the pleasant alternative of starving to death or dragging the noble name of Dugald before the footlights of the stage, my father politely informed her that she was at liberty to go on the stage or to go to—hem! It was then that I offered La Faustina an asylum in my house, which she accepted. And I hope, Lady Vincent, that you will be good enough to make her welcome," said Lord Vincent.