“You have come here without my permission, Madam,” Lord Roos cried furiously to his mother-in-law, “and you shall not depart until I choose.  Secure the door, Diego, and bring me the key.  It is well,” he continued, as the injunction was obeyed.

Lady Lake submitted without resistance to the constraint imposed upon her.  She could not well do otherwise; for though her screams would have brought aid, it might have arrived too late.  And, after all, she did not intend to settle matters in this way.  But she betrayed no symptoms of fear, and, as we have stated, ordered her daughter to discontinue her supplications.

“And now, Madam,” said Lord Roos, releasing Lady Lake, as he took the key from Diego, “I will tell you who that person is,” pointing to the couch.

“Add not to the number of falsehoods you have already told, my lord,” rejoined Lady Lake, contemptuously.  “I am perfectly aware who she is.”

“But I would fain hear his explanation, mother,” said Lady Roos.

“What explanation can be offered?” cried Lady Lake.  “Do you doubt the evidence of your senses?”

“I know not what I doubt, or what I believe,” exclaimed Lady Roos distractedly.

“Then believe what I tell you, Bess,” said her husband.  “This is the countess’s handmaiden, Gillian Greenford.”

“An impudent lie!” cried Lady Lake.

“A truth, my lady,” interposed Diego.  “A truth to which I am ready to swear.”

“No doubt of it, thou false knave, and double traitor! thou art worthy of thy lord.  There is no lie, however absurd and improbable, which he can invent, that thou wilt not support.  Thou art ready now to perjure thyself for him; but let him place little reliance on thee, for thou wilt do the same thing for us to-morrow.”

“I scarcely think it probable, my lady,” Diego replied, bowing.

Lady Lake turned from him in supreme disgust.

“Admitting for a moment the possibility of your lordship’s assertion being correct,” said Lady Roos, “how comes Gillian Greenford (for so methinks you name her) in her mistress’s attire?”

“’T is easily explained, chuck,” Lord Roos rejoined.  “Anxious, no doubt, to set herself off to advantage, she hath made free with the countess’s wardrobe.  Your own favourite attendant, Sarah Swarton, hath often arranged herself in your finest fardingales, kirtlets, and busk-points, as Diego will tell you.  Is it not so, rascal?”

“’T is precisely as my lord hath stated, my lady,” said the Spaniard to Lady Roos.  “When Sarah Swarton hath been so habited, I have more than once mistaken her for your ladyship.”

“Yet Sarah is very unlike me,” said Lady Roos.

“That only shows how deceptive appearances are, chuck, and how little we ought to trust to them,” observed Lord Roos.

“How can you suffer yourself to be thus duped, Elizabeth?” said Lady Lake.

“Because her ladyship would rather believe me than you, Madam,” rejoined Lord Roos.  “But she is not duped.”