her face and felt herself a great
hypocrite.

Doctor Vaughan was to remain for lunch; and while he talked quietly
with Olive, Claire sat considering what they would say if they knew
all. Presently her reverie was interrupted by the entrance of a
servant, who said:

"Mrs. Ralston wishes Miss Keith to come to her."

Claire started up, and without a word to either her lover or her
sister, hurried into the presence of her friend.

Mrs. Ralston advanced to meet the girl as she entered the room, and
laying a hand upon her shoulder, said: "I understood you to say that
your sister knows nothing of your acquaintance with that man. Am I
right?

"Yes."

"And you do not wish her to know?"

Claire hesitated. "I did not then think it was wrong to conceal it
from her," she said, finally; "but now, if you think it best, I will
try and tell her."

"But I do not think it best, my darling. I should have been convinced
of his identity even had I not used the picture as a test. We will say
nothing on that subject. And now, let us go down-stairs, for we have
work to do!"

So saying, she led the way from the room and Claire followed,
wondering how all this was to end.

CHAPTER XLV.

MRS. RALSTON'S STORY.

Mrs. Ralston entered the drawing-room with the light of a new and
strong purpose shining in her eyes.

"Dear friends," she said, "sit near me and give me your attention. I
have a story to tell, and I must not fatigue myself too much in the
telling."

Without a word, Clarence moved forward an easy chair. As she seated
herself, they all grouped about her with grave, expectant faces.

"I will make brief mention of myself," said the lady, sinking back in
the luxurious chair with a slightly weary smile. "My life has never
been a bright one. Married for the first time at the age of sixteen,
my childhood was prematurely blighted, and my first real trouble fell
upon me. It was not a happy marriage, and during the years of my first
husband's life, I became more and more alienated from my relatives.

"When at last my husband died, I was thirty-six years old, and owing
to ill-health, looked much older. But--I was wealthy. Then I met a
man, younger than myself, and very handsome. I was weak and foolish. I
believed in him and--married him. For four years he squandered my
money and made my life a burden. At last, when I could endure no
longer, and when, because he had inherited a fortune from some
relative, I knew he would