"That's flattering to me. But I thought you liked the Countess."
Hetty glanced fearfully around her. Nobody was near--only the palms and the scented roses could hear her confidences.
"I have tried," she confessed, "and I have failed. She fascinates and yet repels me. There is some strange mystery about her. Gordon, I feel sure that there is the shadow of some great crime on her house. It sounds weak, hysterical, perhaps, but I can't get it out of my mind."
"But, darling, the Countess has been a good friend to me."
"I know. You are strong and ambitious, and she is helping to make you the fashion. But has it ever struck you why?"
"Perhaps it is because she has the good taste to like me," Gordon laughed.
"Because she loves you," said Hetty, in a thrilling whisper. "Because her whole heart and soul is given over to a consuming passion for you. There is a woman who would go any length to win a man's love. If a husband stood in the way she would poison him; if a woman, she would be destroyed. Gordon, I am frightened; I wake up in the middle of the night trembling. I wish you had never come here; I don't know what I wish."
Gordon looked down into the troubled violet eyes with amazement. Surely he would wake up presently and find that he had been dreaming. Countess Lalage with all the world at her feet, and he a struggling doctor. Oh, it was preposterous! And yet little words and signs and hints unnoticed at the time were coming to his mind now.
"I wish you hadn't told me this," he murmured, uneasily. "It would have been far----"
He paused. From overhead somewhere came the sound of a frightened, wailing cry, the pitiful call of a child in terror. Hetty was on her feet in a moment, all her fears had gone to the winds.