When the duke looked up from his paper to see what was the effect of his
news, he saw that the duchess had quietly fainted away, and lay with the
pallor of death on her face. He believed that the heat was the cause,
and never suspected his wife's share in the story.
She recovered after a few minutes. She did not know whether she was more
glad or sorry at what she had heard. She had said once before of herself
that she was not strong enough to be thoroughly wicked--and she was
right.
* * * * *
A year had elapsed, and Lord Arleigh and his wife were in town for the
season, and were, as a matter of course, the objects of much curiosity.
He was sitting one evening in the drawing-room of his town-house, when
one of the servants told him that a lady wished to see him. He inquired
her name and was told that she declined to give it. He ordered her to be
shown into the room where he was, and presently there entered a tall
stately lady, whose face was closely vailed; but the imperial figure,
the stately grace were quite familiar to him.
"Philippa!" he cried, in astonishment.
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