She rose to greet him, tall, majestic as a daughter of the gods, with her scarlet shawl draping her shoulders regally; and her quivering, spirited countenance seemed to glow with a new and beautiful effulgence, as if the glad soul illuminated each plain feature with rose lights. Her dark-fringed eyelids hid the beaming eyes for a moment of timid hesitancy, and she drooped before the stranger like a conquered empress; and then she flashed a full, sweet face upon him whom she had mourned as dead. And the gaze grew fixed and troubled, the outstretched hand fell slowly to her side--she stood speechless. How often had her faithful memory held up to her the portrait of St. Udo Brand--grand, bold, fearless as she had beheld him in that hour of his fury; when the white lights of scorn were flashing from his straightly-leveled eyes, and the wrath of a king sat on his regal brow. How was it that he cringed in the doorway there and with a forced stare met her gaze of bewilderment? Why did his lurid eyeballs shift and shrink, and grow small and hare-like, when they had ever met hers, with the full glare of an eagle? How had these thin lines of patient waiting, and anxiety, and craft, escaped her intent scrutiny when last she had lifted her outraged eyes to that face. Was this the hero of her dreams, this evil-faced man who looked at her so insolently? The roses faded out of her cheeks, the rich light fled from her eyes, her heart swelled wildly in her bosom and then turned to a heavier weight than lead. She averted a white, cold face from Colonel Brand and sank upon her chair like one whose blood has oozed to the last drop through the secret wound. "Good heaven! she has fainted!" cried Dr. Gay. CHAPTER XIII. MARGARET GOES TO CASTLE BRAND. It was about noon the next morning when, for the second time, Colonel Brand presented himself at Dr. Gay's door, requesting the honor of an interview with Margaret Walsingham. "Shall you see him to-day?" asked the languid voice of Mrs. Gay, at the lady's bedroom door, when she had delivered the colonel's message. Margaret opened the door and looked out. Her great troubled eyes were circled with violet shadows; she had not slept, and, if those wan cheeks did not belie her she had wept many hours of the preceeding night. "I must meet him, I suppose; I may as well have it over to-day. I want to get rid of the whole business as fast as I can." Colonel Brand rose as the tall, proud figure glided in, and with a quiet bow passed to a distant sofa. "We meet, I hope, more amicably than we parted," observed he, with an intent watch on her countenance. "On my part, yes," answered she, with a deep blush. "I have heard how you refused to possess my fortune, feeling how you would defraud me," said he. "I feel, of course, grateful to you for your honorable conduct." The measured tones fell harshly on the woman's high soul; she shrank from the ignoble praise,