Another minute, and he knew there must come a fearful disclosure and explosion. He moved a step nearer the motionless girl and attempted to take one of those outstretched hands in his. His touch seemed to unlock those tense nerves and muscles as if by magic. She shrank away from him with a low, shuddering cry, and then, without word or warning, fell forward, and would have dropped to the floor had he not caught her in his arms. Mr. Huntress, who entered the room at that moment, sprang forward, with a cry of alarm. “What is the matter?” he asked, his attention all concentrated upon Gladys, and never suspecting the dreadful trick that had been played upon them all. “The excitement has been too much for her, I fear,” Everet responded, in a low tone. Mr. Huntress took the senseless girl from him, saying: “Open that door behind you; we must get her away before that crowd comes pouring in. My poor girl! what can have caused this unusual fainting turn?” Everet eagerly obeyed his command, and Gladys was borne into a small sitting room, and laid upon a sofa there. The next moment Mrs. Huntress’ anxious face appeared in the door-way. “Oh, August, what has happened?” she cried. “Gladys has fainted, from some cause or other. Go, Geoff” he continued, turning to Everet, “and send some one immediately for Doctor Hoyt.” The young man hastened to obey, glad to get away from the sight of that white, rigid face for a moment. He found a servant in the hall, dispatched him for the family physician, and then went back to his post beside Gladys. He was nearly as pale as the unconscious bride, for he knew that the truth must soon come out, and, hardened and dogged as he was, the prospect of the inevitable explosion was not a pleasant one. Mrs. Huntress was on her knees beside her daughter, bathing her face with water, which she had poured from an ice pitcher standing near. She had thrown back the delicate vail, and it lay all in a heap, like a fleecy cloud, about the pretty brown head upon the sofa pillow, while Mr. Huntress had torn off his gloves, and was chaffing the small limp hands with anxious solicitude. “What could have been the cause of this? When was she taken ill?” he asked, half turning toward Everet, but still keeping his eyes fastened upon the face he loved so well. “Just before you entered,” Everet answered, in a clear, natural tone. Mr. Huntress started, and turned a questioning glance upon him. Their eyes met, and held each other for one brief moment. Then Mr. Huntress dropped the hands he was chaffing, arose slowly to his feet, his own color fast receding. “Geoffrey?” he said, in a doubtful tone, going close up to the young man. “No, sir; _Everet Mapleson_, if you please.” replied the young man, haughtily, as with a mighty effort he braced himself for the encounter. “By Heaven, _it is_!” August Huntress hoarsely exclaimed, and recoiling as if he had been struck a heavy blow. “What—what is the meaning of this?”