Even in shame?" asked she, scornfully.

"Even in shame, for the shame would be short-lived; but Lord Norwood is
alive, and you are his wife."

"Lord Norwood! I have heard that name so often," said she, musingly.

"At Florence, of course, he was every night at the Mazzarini Palace; the
same Gerald Acton you remember long ago."

"And he is a lord,--an English noble?"

"And you are an English peeress, Lola. There is not a coronet more safe
upon a titled head than I can make yours,--can and will make," added
he, slowly. "But you must be patient; I must now speak to you, Lola, of
themes in which you can take no interest, and subjects of which you know
nothing. But listen to me attentively, and hear me; for fortune has not
thus thrown us together without a meaning.

"The hour is come, Lola, when heretics and infidels have determined on
an attack of our faith; not as they have hitherto attempted, and with
such signal failure, by the weapons of controversy and discussion, but
by brute force; by the might of millions driven to madness from want
and misgovernment To avert this terrible calamity is now the unceasing
thought of the Church. Some have counselled one thing, some another;
some would go forth to the fight, trusting that, as of old, God
would not forget his people; there are others who deem this course
presumptuous and unwise. The hearts of kings are not as they once
were,--in their confessors' keeping. Our age and manners would send
forth no crusade. The battle must be otherwise contested. You could
not follow me, Lola, were I to tell you either of the perils or their
antidotes. Enough that I say we must have trusty and faithful agents in
every land of Europe, and in every rank in every people. From the secret
whisperings of the Czar to the muttered discontent of the Irish peasant,
we must know them all. To this end have we labored anxiously and eagerly
for some time back, and already have we made great progress. From every
Court of Europe we now receive tidings, and there is not a royal palace
where our interests are unguarded. Some serve us for the glorious cause
itself, some have their own price, some again are in our own hands
from motives of self-interest or terror, but all are alike true. This
Princess--this Dalton--I destined for a duty of the same nature. Married
to a man of Midchekoff's wealth and influence, she might have done
good service, but I scarcely dare to trust her; even at the sacrifice
of herse