"Mrs. Purdy," he said, haughtily, "this is my wife. Look well at her, and tell me if you have ever met her before?"
The housekeeper looked searchingly at the beautiful face, whose blue eyes flashed lightning scorn upon her. In a moment it all rushed over her mind.
That face was too lovely to be lightly forgotten. She grew pale, and commenced to stammer forth incoherent apologies.
"Ah! I see that you remember me," said Mrs. Ernscliffe, curling a scornful lip.
"Madam, I—pardon me," stammered the crestfallen woman, "you were not then his wife. I thought you a stranger, a——"
"Silence!" thundered Captain Ernscliffe. "She was my wife then as she is now. There is no excuse for your infamous conduct. She might have died but for the kindness of strangers—she, my unfortunate wife, turned from her own house without shelter for her friendless head. Go, now, and never let me see you again. Even as you drove her out I will drive you!"
"No—no," exclaimed Queenie, for she saw how utterly the proud, overbearing woman was abashed. "No—no; I was very angry, but I forgive her now, for I see how she is humbled at remembrance of her fault. Let her stay, and this incident may teach her in future to be guided by the golden rule."
[CHAPTER XXXV.]
"Queenie, are you ready for your drive?" called her husband from the foot of the stairway. "The phaeton is at the door."