How is it?"
She did not tell him that she could not purchase more dresses, or,
rather, would not until Madame Elise was paid. Her face flushed, and
Lord Atherton smiled.
"You need not carry economy too far," he said; "it is very good of you
to take so great an interest in me, Marion, but you must not go to these
extremes. You had five hundred pounds yesterday; go and get some pretty,
elegant dresses suitable for Lady Atherton."
She could not tell him that she had sent that all away, and had not a
shilling left. There were times when Marion, Lady Atherton, heiress of
Hanton, mistress of one of the finest fortunes in England, wife of one
of the richest men--when she hardly knew where to turn for money; the
poorest beggar in the street was more at ease.
In the meantime, Allan Lyster, by his successful trading on a woman's
secret, was leading a life of complete and perfect luxury. He spared no
expense; he gambled, betted, played at every game of chance; he was well
known at Tattersall's in all the green rooms; he played to perfection
the part of a fast man about town, while the woman he had pretended to
love was wearing her life away in mortification and suspense.
At last, what she had long foreseen came to pass. Allan wrote to her for
money when she was utterly unable to get it. She was compelled to borrow
it from Lord Ridsdale. He lent it to her with a smile, telling her at
the same time, with real gravity in his voice, that he hoped she was
keeping no secret from her husband.
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