"She never named you either in praise or blame, father. I had some vague impression that you were dead. I knew no better until I overheard Mrs. Cleveland telling some one that you had deserted my mother before I was born, and that you were a low, drunken, brutal wretch, who had abused and maltreated her from the first." "Oh, my God, my God! that such demons should walk the earth!" the man groans through his clenched teeth. He rises and walks up and down the floor, struggling with his strong, overmastering agitation. "Vera, we three--you and I, and our lost loved one--have been wronged as, it seems to me, never mortals were before. My heart is on fire with rage and hate for the devil who has so blasted our lives. It seems to me that I can never rest until I strike back. Vera, shall we not avenge ourselves?" His dark, passionate eyes fill with the fire that rages in his soul. Vera looks up at him, half-fearfully. "How, father?" she queries, slowly. The heavy gloom deepens in his night-black eyes. "How--I cannot tell!" he says, hoarsely. "But I will bide my time. I will wait and watch. Edith's wrongs shall not go unavenged." The beautiful young face on the pillow softens and saddens. "Mother was very gentle and forgiving," she murmurs. "_She_ would have said, leave it to Heaven." "She was an angel--I am but human," he answers. "Vera, we must work together for vengeance. The time will come when we will make Marcia Cleveland bite the dust--when she shall curse the stars that shone over her ill-fated birth." So the wronged man raves, and Vera's passionate heart is kindled into flames by his burning eloquence. She is with him heart and soul, loyal to the core of her woman's heart. Strange, that when she tells him the story of her short, sad life she should hold one secret back. The words die on her white lips when she tries to tell him. A passionate shame fills her heart. Oh, the bitter pain, the deep humiliation of the thought that she is Leslie Noble's wife. Leslie Noble whom she scorns and despises. Have they told her father the truth? she wonders. No, for presently he says, tenderly: "Do not think that all my thoughts are given up to vengeance, Vera. I shall care for you very tenderly, darling. And if you should ever marry, I pray God that your wedded happiness may not be blighted by such a terrible wrong as mine." Her heart gives a great throb of relief. He does not know. He never shall know by her telling, she resolves. The day comes soon when they kneel hand in hand by Edith's grave to bid her good-bye before departing for England's shore.