"Ah, Mrs. Dane!"—with a curious intonation in her voice, her steely eyes fixed upon Serena's startled face—"I must congratulate you—ahem! I suppose now you consider that you have made quite a grand match for yourself, that you have wedded a wealthy old man, whose entire fortune will go to you some day in the near future? My dear Serena, 'there's many a slip 'twixt cup and lip'."
"What do you mean?" demanded Serena, harshly.
"Nothing—of course not. Only some day your eyes will see the truth, and you will be astonished, Mrs. Dane!"
A swift, angry light leaped into Serena's eyes. She turned away with a wrathful gesture just as Simons appeared.
"Simons,"—Mrs. Dane's voice was cold and hard—"show this woman out, and if she ever ventures here again do not admit her."
Simons bowed.
"I'll do so, ma'am, suah!" he returned.
"Will you?" retorted Mrs. Ray. "Very well. Mrs. Serena, your day is done. This insult is the last straw that breaks the camel's back. I will pay you off for this, if I swing for it!"
She walked swiftly to the outer door, and waving Simons aside, opened it herself and passed out. Her face was white as death, her eyes burning like flame.
"I will hesitate no longer!" she muttered low under her breath as she plunged on down the street. "Serena shall suffer for this! I will not hesitate for the sake of shielding him! I will do the work of destruction! I will tumble down Serena's little house of cards! If they had treated me differently—if Bernard had been kinder, and that wretch Serena not so insulting—I might have spared them, I might have continued to keep my secret. I have kept it for years; it would have gone to the grave with me. But the time has come at last, and I will tell, if I die for it!"