They had to wear a mask, these two deadly foes, before the curious eyes of the world.
She flashed a sudden, haughty look of inquiry into his steadfast eyes.
He stooped over her quickly.
"Yes," he whispered, hurriedly and lowly; "it is vendetta still. War to the knife!"
Then Lord Dudley, full of regrets, attended her to her carriage.
[CHAPTER XXIII.]
"Xenie, is that you? Are you just home from the ball?"
Mrs. Carroll turned sleepily on her pillow and looked at the little figure that came gliding in, looking ghost-like in the pale glimmer of the night-lamp in its trailing white robes and unbound hair.
"Yes, mamma, it is I. But I have been home several hours from the ball."