Gentle Mrs. Brace, honest Mark, loving Mattie--something like regret did seize her when she thought how earnestly they would read that letter, and how sincerely they would believe it. "There is another thing," said this cold-blooded lord; "promise me that you will, at least until I join you, wear a thick veil. You have no idea what a sensation such a face as yours would make; you would easily be traced by it." She smiled, well pleased with the compliment. "Once away over the sea," he said, "and my proudest, keenest delight will be to show the whole world the beautiful prize I have won. Mind, the veil must be so thick that not one feature, of the face can be seen through it." "I will remember," she said, with a smile. Then he took from his pocket a purse well filled. "I know you will not be angry," he said. "You cannot ask for money, or people will begin to wonder why you want it. You will take this." A faint flush rose to her face. "I must," she replied, "I have none of my own." Then she rose; it was time to return to the house she was so soon to abandon. He bent down to kiss her, and drew the beautiful face to his, just as Earle had done. Thoughts of her treachery again disturbed her, and she shuddered as though with cold. "You are tired, my darling," he said. "Go home and rest." They parted under the trees. He went away, and as she walked slowly home, she said to herself: "I have killed Earle!" CHAPTER XXVIII. A WOMAN RESOLVED. Mattie Brace stood at the farm gate: she was looking impatiently up and down the road, and a sudden light flashed in her face as she caught sight of Doris. The beautiful face seemed to flash like light from beneath the gloom of green trees. "Doris," cried Mattie, almost impatiently, "I have been looking everywhere for you. There is a whole roll of newspapers from London; they are directed to you, and I know the writing--it is Mr. Leslie's. I am sure they contain notices of your picture. Make haste--I am longing to see them." Doris looked up with a shyness quite new to her. "I am coming," she replied. "Where is Earle?" She hesitated as she asked the question. There were no depths in her nature; she did not even understand regret--of remorse she had not the slightest conception; yet even she felt unwilling to look in the face of the man who loved her. "Where is Earle?" she repeated. "He has not returned from Quainton yet," replied Mattie; and the two girls entered the house together. On the table of the little sitting-room lay a roll of newspapers, addressed to Miss Doris Brace. The beautiful lips curved with scorn as she read the name aloud. "Doris Brace!" she said. "Fate must have been deriding me to give me such a name." But Mattie made no reply; she had long since ceased to answer similar remarks. Then Mrs. Brace, seeing the sitting-room door open, went in to look at what was going on. Doris looked up at her with a bright laugh.