ter
time, and had only laughed at the warning. She tried to offer some
soothing words, but the girl would not listen to them. Her heart and
soul were in angry revolt.

"I might have been a useful woman," she said, suddenly, "if I had had
this chance in life; I might have been happy myself, and have made
others happy. As it is, I swear that I will live only for vengeance."

She raised her beautiful white arm and jeweled hand.

"Listen to me," she said; "I will live for vengeance--not on Sir
Oswald--if he chooses to marry, let him--but I will first warn the woman
he marries, and then, if she likes to come here as Lady Darrell,
despite my warning, let her. I will take such vengeance on her as suits
a Darrell--nothing commonplace--nothing in the way of poisoning--but
such revenge as shall satisfy even me."

In vain Miss Hastings tried to soothe her, to calm her, the torrent of
angry words had their way.

Then she came over to Miss Hastings, and, placing her hand on her
shoulder, asked:

"Tell me, whom do you think Sir Oswald is going to marry?"

"I cannot imagine--unless it is Miss Rocheford."

"Elinor Rocheford--that mere child! Let her beware!"

CHAPTER XX.

CAPTAIN LANGTON DESPERATE.

A short period of calm fell upon Darrell Court. Miss Darrell's passion
seemed to have exhausted itself.

"I will never believe," she said one day to Miss Hastings, "that Sir
Oswald meant what he said. I am beginning to think it was merely a
threat--the Darrells are all hot-tempered."

But Miss Hastings had heard more than she liked to tell her pupil, and
she knew that what the baronet had said was not only quite true, but
that preparations for the marriage had actually commenced.

"I am afraid it was no threat, Pauline," she said, sadly.

"Then let the new-comer beware," said the girl, her face darkening.
"Whoever she may be, let her beware. I might have been a good woman, but
this will make me a wicked one. I shall live only for revenge."

A change came over her. The improvement that Miss Hastings had so fondly
noticed, and of which she had been so proud, died away. Pauline seemed
no longer to take any interest in reading or study. She would sit for
hours in gloomy, sullen silence, with an abstracted look on her face.
What was passing in her mind no one knew. Miss Hastings would go to her,
and try to rouse her; but Pauline grew impatient.

"Do leave me in peace," she would say. "Leave me to my own thoughts. I