[CHAPTER XXVIII.]
Previous to Leslie Noble's visit to Countess Vera he has been the hero of an excited scene at Darnley House.
Since the night of Mrs. Vernon's party, Ivy has been, for the most part of the time, raving in angry hysterics, which Mr. Noble makes no smallest attempt to soothe or soften. In fact, he spends almost all of his time away from home, and a quiet as of the tomb seems to have fallen over the magnificent mansion with its splendid furniture and large retinue of servants. No one calls, no further invitations pour in upon them. Society seems to have tacitly turned the cold shoulder to them in their defeat and disgrace.
The rage, the shame, the humiliation of Mrs. Cleveland's mind no tongue can tell.
From the grave in which he lies moldering back to his kindred clay, her enemy has reached out an icy, skeleton hand, and struck the brimming cup of pride and triumph ruthlessly from her lips.
Through the agency of his child, the beautiful daughter she had hated so bitterly, he had avenged his terrible wrongs. There is murder in Marcia Cleveland's heart as she writhes under the retributive hand of justice. Fain would she grip her strong, white fingers around Vera's delicate throat, and press the life out, or plunge a dagger in her tender breast, or press a poisoned cup to those beautiful lips that had condemned her in such scornful phrases.
On the morning of that day when Leslie Noble has his interview with Lady Vera, Mrs. Cleveland is sitting alone with Ivy in a small, daintily-furnished morning-room that opens from the library.
They are anxiously discussing their situation and prospects, for it is impossible to conceal from themselves that Mr. Noble is dazzled by the prospect opening before him, and that the severance of the tie that has bound him to the shrewish Ivy is more agreeable to his mind than otherwise.
"Will he desert me, do you think, mamma? He used to love me, you remember," exclaims the fair termagant, trying to whisper comfort to her foreboding heart.
Mrs. Cleveland laughs, a low, bitter, sarcastic laugh.