He had but one resource, one more question to ask, and if he were baffled in that, he should be at a loss what to think. He gazed earnestly into the beautiful face. "Lady Studleigh," he said, "I cannot help fancying that I have seen you before--that we have met before, and have been good friends. Is it so?" There was no trace of emotion in her face--nothing but girlish surprise. "Met before? I do not remember it, Lord Vivianne. I have been introduced to so many strangers, it is possible I may have forgotten some. Still, I think I should have remembered your name." "It was not in London we met," he said. "Carry your memory back to last year--only last year. Have you no place for me in it?" "No," she replied, "I have not. Last year I spent at Linleigh Court. Have I really seen you before, Lord Vivianne? Indeed, I apologize most sincerely for not remembering you." "It may be only a fancy," he said. "But if you knew me, and knew that I ought to recognize you, why did you ask for an introduction to me?" she asked, wonderingly. "Because I was not sure," he replied, gloomily. "I am not sure now--I am bewildered." Then when he saw the surprise on her face deepen into annoyance, he said: "I beg your pardon. I did know some one once who was like you--oh, so like you!--some one who made me very unhappy. That is our dance. Lady Studleigh, smile, that I may know you have forgiven me." She smiled, and they went away to the ball-room together. CHAPTER LXIV. A TERRIBLE TRIAL. "Earle," said Lady Doris, "it seems so long since you left me." She was standing in the ball-room with the countess. Her late partner, Lord Vivianne, had gone to fulfill his engagement elsewhere. "It seems so long," she repeated. And Earle, who knew every tone of her voice, detected something unusually sad in it. His face grew bright with happiness that she had missed him. "I saw you dancing with the gentleman who admired you so greatly the other evening," he replied. "You seemed so interested in his conversation that I never dreamed you would miss me." "He has tried me so, Earle," she said, gently. "Before I can enjoy myself again, I must go somewhere and rest for a few minutes. Where shall we go?" Earle silently placed the little white hand on his arm, and led the way to a brilliantly-lighted conservatory, where the rippling of the fountain mingled with the songs of tamed birds. There was no one else in that spacious fragrant place. He drew a chair to one of the fountains and placed her in it. She drew a deep breath of unutterable relief, as one who had passed through mortal peril and escaped it. Looking at her, Earle saw that her beautiful face was ghastly white; the eyes she raised to him were dim and shadowed with horror. "Earle," she said, with a faint attempt at a smile, "I do not look much like the belle of the ball now, do I?" He was full of concern.