"I know that you have forged a letter in imitation of my writing——" began Adeline.
"And that letter has already produced the desired effect," interrupted Lydia, coolly; "for five minutes have scarcely elapsed since Colonel Cholmondeley stole from the private door opening upon the garden."
"Then you were watching the results of your detestable scheme," cried Lady Ravensworth, in a tone bitter with rage.
"Not only I—but half a dozen of the other dependants of the household," returned Lydia.
"Merciful God! you have done this, vile woman?" screamed Lady Ravensworth. "No—no: you surely could not have been so wicked?"
"I have done it," replied Lydia, in her calm, impassive manner.
"Then it is now for me to think of vengeance!" said Adeline, conquering the turbulent emotions of passion which agitated within her, and flinging herself once more upon the sofa, while her thoughts wandered to the address concealed in the casket of jewels.
"You think of vengeance!" repeated Lydia, scornfully. "Oh! I should rejoice if you were to meet me with my own weapons—for such conduct on your part would afford me scope and excuse for augmenting the means of punishment which I employ. And now listen to the details of that scheme by which I have this evening so successfully degraded you."
"Wretch!" muttered Adeline, hoarsely between her teeth.
"Hard names break no bones, my lady," said Lydia. "But again I enjoin you to listen to what I have to tell you. I knew your handwriting well—and it was no difficult thing to imitate it. I penned that letter which the Colonel ere now showed you—and I enclosed the key. In the note I desired that no allusion might be made by him to that letter, because I wished the interview to be a long one, and I suspected that the suddenness and boldness of his unexpected intrusion would cause a protracted conversation ere any question on your part would elicit from him the means by which he had obtained access to your privacy. Nor was I mistaken."