CHAPTER XVII.
A DRAMATIC MEETING.
Yes, Juliette was waiting in the hall.
The day was warm, and she wore a black dress, rich in quality, but of a soft, diaphanous material, through which her neck and arms gleamed snowy white. Her golden hair was arranged so as to make the very most of its beauty. She wished to overawe her uncle’s wife, if possible, with her dignity and beauty.
The door opened, and as soon as Colonel Falconer appeared she rushed to his arms with theatrical effect. He returned her kiss, and disengaged himself as soon as possible from her embrace, that he might present her to the beautiful creature waiting in the background:
“My wife, Juliette.”
Juliette looked, and saw a figure of medium height, but so exquisitely slender, though rounded, that it looked taller. It was clothed in a Parisian suit of dove gray, and from under the demure little bonnet looked the loveliest face in the world—sweet yet spirited, with exquisite features, dazzling complexion, and eyes of purplish blue under lovely curling lashes, dark as night.
But what was it that made Juliette stare in wonder and gasp in fear? She caught her uncle’s arm, and he felt her trembling from head to foot.
“Juliette, my poor girl, this meeting has unnerved you,” he exclaimed pityingly, and Pansy advanced, as if to offer assistance, but was instantly repulsed, Juliette flinging out a frantic arm to keep her off.
“Keep back, keep back! Do not come near me with that face!” she hissed angrily; and Pansy looked at her husband in cold amazement.
“Has Miss Ives gone suddenly mad?” she demanded haughtily, and at the sound of her voice, so cold yet silvery sweet, Juliette shrank closer to her uncle, crying out: