"Farewell, sweet emblems of truth and love." And throwing the flowers, which she had so fondly kissed but a few moments before, among dead leaves on the ground, said in a voice that trembled with the pathos of the death of love's young dream: "Thus perish all my young life's happy hopes. Gone! Gone among the things that are dead." Sobs of bitterest disappointment again burst from her lips. Suddenly she brushed her hand across her eyes--it was then that Virginia's transformation took place. From the guileless, joyful, winsome maid, emerged a woman--beautiful, but alas, subtle, alert and avenging. With a stamp of her foot she said, with sudden determination: "Away with these tears. What have I to do with human feelings now? I will conquer this weakness, though in the process my heart be changed to stone. "Now, Corway, beware of me, for you shall know that the love you have toyed with has changed to hate, an unappeasable, undying hate, and you shall learn, too, that a woman's revenge will pause at nothing that will help to gratify it." Then she slipped out of the conservatory, with the intention to get to her room, if possible, unobserved, but was halted by hearing Constance say: "Virginia, dear! I wish to make you acquainted with Lord Beauchamp." There was no chance for evasion or escape. Virginia had not noticed them as she passed, for they were hidden by the angle of the conservatory, and she was quite close to them when addressed by Constance. Quick of wit, the girl realized that some excuse was necessary to account for the appearance of her tear-stained face. Halting in her flight, she drew her handkerchief and commenced to rub her eyes, and speaking with faltering lips, for the wound in her heart was yet raw and tender, she said: "Your Lordship finds me at an awkward moment--something has gotten into my eye, and causes me acute pain, but please believe, I esteem it an honor to number Your Grace among my acquaintances." "Dear heart!" exclaimed Constance, at once proceeding to examine the girl's eye. "Let me try to relieve you!" As Virginia felt the touch of loving fingers on her eyelids, she felt powerless to restrain her emotion, and great tears welled up. Her weary head fell forward upon her friend's shoulder, and she sobbed: "Oh, Constance, dear, the world to me is one black charnel house." The gentle nature of Constance leaped out in sympathy which, for the moment, smothered her surprise. She threw her arms around Virginia and kissed her on the temple. That Virginia suffered was enough, she felt instinctively that such an outburst of grief was from a far deeper source than that produced by the mote in her eye.