"Not yet. She has been ill, but I have cared for her myself, and did not call in the doctor. But we cannot keep it a secret always. Of course malicious people will not believe in the marriage, and Lora's fair fame will be ruined forever! Oh! if she had only never been born!" cried the proud and unhappy mother. Mrs. St. John sat silent, her lily-white hands clasped in her lap, her dark eyes staring into vacancy with a strangely intent expression. She roused herself at last and looked at her mother. "Mamma, we must devise ways and means of keeping this a secret! It would ruin the family to have it known," she said, decidedly. "Yes, I know that," said Mrs. Carroll, gloomily. "I would do anything in the world to save Lora's fair fame if I only knew what to do!" "I have a plan," said Xenie, rising quietly. "I will tell it you by-and-by, mamma. Everything shall come right if you will be guided by me. Now take me to my sister, if you please." Mrs. Carroll rose silently and opened the door. Xenie followed her down a narrow passage to a door at the further end, and they entered a pretty and neat little room. A low wood fire burned on the cleanly swept hearth, and on the white bed, with her dark hair trailing loosely over the pillows, lay a beautiful, white-faced girl, enough like Xenie to be her twin. She started up with a cry of mingled joy and pain as the new-comer came toward her. "My poor darling!" Mrs. St. John murmured, in a tone of infinite love and compassion, as she twined her arms around the trembling form. Lora clung to her sister, sobbing and weeping convulsively. At length she whispered against her shoulder: "Mamma has told you all, Xenie?" "Yes, dear," was the gentle answer. "And you--you believe that I was married?" questioned the invalid. "Yes, darling," whispered her sister, tenderly. "How could I believe evil of you, my innocent, little Lora?" "Thank God!" cried the invalid, gratefully. "Oh! Xenie, mamma has been so angry it nearly broke my heart." "She will forgive you, darling," murmured Mrs. St. John, fondly, as she stroked the dark head nestling on her breast. "And, oh, Xenie, poor Jack--my Jack--he is dead!" sobbed Lora, bursting into a fit of wild, hysterical weeping. "There, darling, hush--you must not excite yourself," said Mrs. St. John, laying her sister back upon the pillows, and trying to soothe her frenzied excitement. "And no one will believe that I was Jack's wife--I am disgraced forever! Mamma says so. The finger of scorn will be pointed at me everywhere. But what do I care, since my heart is broken? I only want to die!" moaned the unhappy young creature, as she tossed to and fro upon the bed. "Be quiet, Lora; listen to me," said Mrs. St. John, taking the restless, white hands in her own, and sitting down upon the bed. "I wish to talk to you as soon as you become reasonable."