"But my husband knows that I have been dining with you; he is sure to
come for me," said Mme. de Wimphen.

"Well, then, before you go I will send _him_ away. I will play the
executioner for us both. Oh me! he will think that I do not love him
any more--And that letter of his! Dear, I can see those words in
letters of fire."

A carriage rolled in under the archway.

"Ah!" cried the Marquise, with something like joy in her voice, "he is
coming openly. He makes no mystery of it."

"Lord Grenville," announced the servant.

The Marquise stood up rigid and motionless; but at the sight of
Arthur's white face, so thin and haggard, how was it possible to keep
up the show of severity? Lord Grenville saw that Julie was not alone,
but he controlled his fierce annoyance, and looked cool and
unperturbed. Yet for the two women who knew his secret, his face, his
tones, the look in his eyes had something of the power attributed to
the torpedo. Their faculties were benumbed by the sharp shock of
contact with his horrible pain. The sound of his voice set Julie's
heart beating so cruelly that she could not trust herself to speak;
she was afraid that he would see the full extent of his power over
her. Lord Grenville did not dare to look at Julie, and Mme. de Wimphen
was left to sustain a conversation to which no one listened. Julie
glanced at her friend with touching gratefulness in her eyes to thank
her for coming to her aid.