On her way from Roxham, Lady Bellamy stopped her carriage at the telegraph office and went in and wrote a telegram.
“I respect that woman, and she shall have her chance,” she said, as she re-read it previous to handing it to the clerk.
Three hours later Mildred Carr received the following message at Madeira:
“From A. B. to Mrs. Carr, Quinta Carr, Madeira:
“Angela C. married her cousin G. C. this morning.”
That night Lady Bellamy dined at Isleworth with George Caresfoot. The dinner passed over in almost complete silence; George was evidently plunged in thought, and could not eat, though he drank a good deal. Lady Bellamy ate and thought too. After the servants had gone, she began to speak.
“I want my price, George,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean what I say. You are now Angela Caresfoot’s husband; give me back those letters as you promised, I am impatient to break my chains.” He hesitated. “George,” she said, in a warning voice, “do not dare to play with me; I warn you that your power over me is not what it used to be. Give me back those letters. I have done your wicked work for you and will have my pay.”
“All right, Anne, and so you shall; when will you have them?”
“Now, this instant.”