that mischief-making villain came between you and me,
you never gave me a bitter word: we were the happiest pair in
Cumberland. But now what are we? And what shall we be in another year or
two?--REVENGE!!"

He had begun bravely enough, but suddenly burst into an ungovernable
rage; and as he yelled out that furious word his face was convulsed and
ugly to look at; very ugly.

Mrs. Gaunt started: she had not seen that vile expression in his face
for many a year; but she knew it again.

"Ay!" he cried, "he has made me drink a bitter cup this many a day. But
I'll force as bitter a one down his throat, and you shall see it done."

Mrs. Gaunt turned pale at this violent threat; but being a high-spirited
woman, she stiffened and hid her apprehensions loftily. "Madman that you
are," said she. "I throw away excuses on _Jealousy_, and I waste reason
upon frenzy. I'll say no more things to provoke you; but, to be sure, 't
is I that am offended now, and deeply too, as you will find."

"So be it," said Griffith, sullenly; then, grinding his teeth, "he shall
pay for that too."

Then he went to his dressing-room, and she to her bedroom. Griffith
hating Leonard, and Kate on the verge of hating Griffith.

And, ere her blood could cool, she was subjected to the keen, cold
scrutiny of another female, and that female a secret rival.

CHAPTER XXI.

Would you learn what men gain by admitting a member of the fair sex into
their conspiracies? read the tragedy of "Venice Preserved"; and, by way
of afterpiece, this little chapter.

Mrs. Gaunt sat pale and very silent, and Caroline Ryder stood behind,
doing up her hair into a magnificent structure that added eight inches
to the lady's height: and in this operation her own black hair and keen
black eyes came close to the golden hair and deep blue eyes, now
troubled, and made a picture striking by contrast.

As she was putting the finishing touches, she said, quietly, "If you
please, Dame, I have somewhat to tell you."

Mrs. Gaunt sighed wearily, expecting some very minute communication.

"Well, Dame, I dare say I am risking my place, but I can't help it."

"Another time, Ryder," said Mrs. Gaunt. "I am in no humor to be worried
with my servants' squabbles."

"Nay, madam, 't is not that at all: 't is about Father Leonard. Sure you
would not like him to be drawn through the horse-pond; and that is what
they mean to do next time he comes here."

In saying these words, the jade con