Her low moan of pain attested that she did, and for a moment there was a deep silence. Then Mr. Kelso resumed: "They told me that Daisy Forrest was dead, and her child, too, and I came here this afternoon to look at her grave before I went back to England to tell Lord Ivon with him the proud title and name must die. I am happy that I am spared this sorrowful task, for I think that after you have examined my credentials you will not hesitate to secure a maid and return with me to England that I may place you in the care of your great-grandparents." He saw the old sexton, who had now replaced the turf and flowers on Daisy Forrest's grave, looking at them curiously as he leaned on his spade, and he beckoned him to approach. Then he gave the old man a brief account of John Forrest's story, telling him that his father had been a rich man, and that poor Daisy's child was going home with him to live with her grandparents. He did not tell him that this great-grandfather was a nobleman, thinking that Flower would not wish to create too much sensation. CHAPTER XXIX. It was of all these stirring events that Azalia Brooks was thinking as she sat in Raynold Clinton's library, crushing in her jeweled hands the paper that held those two names with their magic power to evoke the past, her sad eyes full of retrospection, her heart heavy with pain. Since that May day, more than two years ago, when William Kelso had so opportunely found her beside her mother's grave, she had been a most fortunate girl, for Lord Ivon and his wife, in their loneliness and their desire for an heir to reign after them, welcomed her with open arms, overlooked the dark stain upon her birth, and only stipulated that it should be kept from the knowledge of the world. In order to further this end, and to destroy her identity with Daisy Forrest's illegitimate daughter, they changed her name to Azalia Brooke, and as no one in England knew any better, except William Kelso, who kept the secret inviolate, her right to the name remained undisputed. She remained for a year secluded at Lord Ivon's magnificent country house in Cornwall, under the care of accomplished governesses and masters, and when she was presented in society created the greatest _furore_ by her grace and beauty. The lovely American, as she was called, was all the rage, and scores of suitors bowed before her, but all in vain, for no one ever awakened her heart, they said, and Lord and Lady Ivon began to feel sorely disappointed. They had hoped she would fall in love with some of her noble suitors and marry. "Perhaps you have left a lover in America, dear?" Lady Ivon said, anxiously, one day; and she never forgot the look of pain that shadowed the beautiful face as Azalia replied: "No, grandmamma, I did not. I never had but one lover, and he died in a few months after we became acquainted."