the foot of a cliff, surrounded by trees and
flowers--one of the prettiest spots in Omberleigh. They were shown into
the drawing-room, the windows of which commanded a magnificent view of
the sea.

Before they had been there many minutes there entered a fair, gentle,
gracious lady, whose eyes filled with tears as she greeted Miss Hastings
warmly.

"You are like a spirit from the past," she said. "I can see Laura a
little child again as I look at you. Nothing could have pleased me so
much as seeing you."

Then she looked admiringly at the beautiful girl by her side. Miss
Hastings introduced her.

"Miss Darrell," she said, "it seems strange that I should meet you. My
husband in his youth knew Sir Oswald well."

Lady St. Lawrence was just what Miss Hastings had described her--a
thoroughly high-bred English lady. In figure she was tall and upright;
her face had been beautiful in its youth, and was even now comely and
fair; the luxuriant brown hair was streaked here and there with silver.
She wore a dress of rich brocade, with some becoming arrangement of
flowers and lace on her head; she was charming in her lady-like
simplicity and gentleness.

Pauline, knowing that the two ladies would have much to talk about,
asked permission to amuse herself with some books she saw upon the
table.

"They belong to my son," said Lady St. Lawrence, with a smile.

There were Tennyson, Keats, and Byron, and written inside of each, in a
bold, clear hand, was the name "Vane St. Lawrence." Pauline lost herself
again in the sweet story of Elaine, from which she was aroused at
intervals by the repetition of the words--"My son Vane."

She could not help hearing some part of Lady St. Lawrence's confidential
communication, and it was to the effect how deeply she deplored the
blindness of her son, who might marry his cousin Lillith Davenant, one
of the wealthiest heiresses in England. Miss Hastings was all kindly
sympathy.

"It would be such an excellent thing for him," continued Lady St.
Lawrence; "and Lillith is a very nice girl. But it is useless counseling
him; Vane is like his father. Sir Arthur, you know, always would have
his own way."

Pauline began to feel interested in this Vane St. Lawrence, who refused
to marry the wealthy heiress because he did not love her.

"He must be somewhat like me," she said to herself with a smile.

Then the conversation changed, and Lady St. Lawrence began to speak of
her daughter Laura and he