e of uneasiness which had now deprived them alike of
their habitual courtesy and their habitual presence of mind. It was as
practically impossible for any one of the three to doubt the identity of
the adopted daughter of the house as it would be for you who read these
lines to doubt the identity of the nearest and dearest relative you have
in the world. Circumstances had fortified Mercy behind the strongest of
all natural rights--the right of first possession. Circumstances had
armed her with the most irresistible of all natural forces--the force
of previous association and previous habit. Not by so much as a
hair-breadth was the position of the false Grace Roseberry shaken by
the first appearance of the true Grace Roseberry within the doors of
Mablethorpe House. Lady Janet felt suddenly repelled, without knowing
why. Julian and Horace felt suddenly repelled, without knowing why.
Asked to describe their own sensations at the moment, they would have
shaken their heads in despair, and would have answered in those words.
The vague presentiment of some misfortune to come had entered the room
with the entrance of the woman in black. But it moved invisibly; and it
spoke as all presentiments speak, in the Unknown Tongue.

A moment passed. The crackling of the fire and the ticking of the clock
were the only sounds audible in the room.

The voice of the visitor--hard, clear, and quiet--was the first voice
that broke the silence.

"Mr. Julian Gray?" she said, looking interrogatively from one of the two
gentlemen to the other.

Julian advanced a few steps, instantly recovering his self-possession.
"I am sorry I was not at home," he said, "when you called with your
letter from the consul. Pray take a chair."

By way of setting the example, Lady Janet seated herself at some little
distance, with Horace in attendance standing near. She bowed to the
stranger with studious politeness, but without uttering a word, before
she settled herself in her chair. "I am obliged to listen to this
person," thought the old lady. "But I am _not_ obliged to speak to her.
That is Julian's business--not mine. Don't stand, Horace! You fidget me.
Sit down." Armed beforehand in her policy of silence, Lady Janet folded
her handsome hands as usual, and waited for the proceedings to begin,
like a judge on the bench.

"Will you take a chair?" Julian repeated, observing that the visitor
appeared neither to heed nor to hear his first words of welcome to he