“What is your name? What are you doing here?” asked Violet.
“Suzanne, miladi, your French maid. Monsieur, your husband, engage me to have care of you.”
“You must not call me miladi. I am an American girl and my name is Miss Mead.”
“Oh, madame, I crave pardon. You are married now. Do you forget? Your name it is Mrs. Harold Castello.”
She saw the beautiful face blanch to the hue of death, heard a stifled cry of anguish cross the pale lips, and cried out, soothingly.
“Be comforted. You have a rich and handsome husband. That is what all the ladies desire. Is it not so?”
“Go, send that man to me. I must speak to him!” exclaimed Violet, with flashing eyes and a tone of command.
CHAPTER XXVI.
AT BAY.
“I am here, my darling Violet, eagerly awaiting the summons to your presence!” exclaimed Harold Castello, quickly entering the room.
She sprang from the sofa and stood up like an indignant queen to receive him.