eline, imperturbably, while
she rests one arm upon a cushioned chair back, and looks coolly from one to
another. "Some of you have felt sufficient interest in me to wonder why I
sent home, to my sorrowing friends, the false statement of my death. I will
explain that. When I left home it was with wrath in my heart, and on my
lips the vow that I would come back and with power in my hands. I had
wrongs to avenge, and I swore to be mistress of my own, and to bring home
to a bad man the heartache and bitterness he had measured out to another.
Well, I did not know just how this was to be accomplished, but Providence,
or fate, showed me the way. Then I saw the necessity for coming back to
Oakley, and to pave the way for my new advent, I sent Nurse Hagar with the
false account of my death. A girl had died in the hospital--a poor,
heart-broken, homeless, friendless, wronged, little unfortunate,--'Kitty
the Dancer' she was called in the days when she was fair to see, and men,
bad men, set snares for her feet."

What ails Lucian Davlin? He is compressing his lips, and struggling
hard for an appearance of composure.

Madeline goes calmly on. "The poor girl died forlorn. She had been
wooed by a vile man, a gambler. She had been to meet him and was
returning from a rendezvous when the carriage that was conveying her
to her poor lodging was overturned, and she was taken up a helpless,
bleeding mass, and carried to the hospital. Then she sent for this
heartless villain, again and again. She implored him to come to her,
at least to send assistance, for she was destitute--a pauper. He
refused, this thing, unworthy the name of man. He was setting other
snares. He had no time, no pity, for his dying victim. Well, she died,
and was buried as Madeline Payne, while I, standing beside her coffin,
prayed to God to make my head wise, and my heart strong, that I might
hunt down, and drive out from the haunts of men, her soulless
destroyer."

Madeline pauses, and three pair of eyes gaze at her with genuine
wonder. But the eyes of Lucian Davlin are fixed upon vacancy, and with
all the might of his powerful will he is struggling to appear calm.

Madeline turns her eyes calmly from his face to Cora's, and seems to
see nothing of this, as she resumes:

"Some strange fatality had made this man the bane of other lives, that
were to be brought into contact with mine. I found that the happiness
of two noble beings was being wrecked by this same man.