“Can it be,” murmured Katharine Vreeland, “that another life secret is buried in his pulseless heart?” But she was soon left alone, for the mother and daughter, with a grave inclination of their heads, had passed out of her life forever. And, thrilled with a strange feeling of loyalty to the man who had been loyal to her at the last—the man who had died true to the unspoken secret which a kindly fate had so strangely guarded—Katharine Vreeland never sought to cross the gulf of that new-made grave. That French Pandora Justine Duprez, had reached Paris, and the reunited mother and daughter were linked in a rapturous love at Lakemere, long before Romaine Garland listened to a few words spoken to her by the old advocate, who had undertaken her affairs. He had sought her out in a lonely nook of the new paradise. Judge Endicott, with a prophetic instinct, saw the unrest which possessed the young girl’s heart. He had a delicate duty to perform, to which his chivalric love for Elaine Willoughby prompted him. “I must, my dear young lady,” he began, eyeing her face keenly, “deal with you directly and alone, in the matter of your inheritance from the late Senator Garston. “Your beloved mother needs an absolute repose of mind and nerves. I wish to lay a friendly charge upon you. “I will relieve you of all cares as to your affairs with the Trust Company. “Let it be your task to make your mother’s life as bright as possible. She will learn to live a new life in your love.” And then, the silver-haired Judge delicately led the dark-eyed girl along to imagine the shadow of an old family tragedy as having darkened her mother’s early lonely womanhood. “There are reasons why you should spare all references to—” “My father! my father!” cried the sobbing girl, burying her face in her hands. Endicott gazed at her in a pitying silence. “The story of the estrangement of two partners and your mysterious inheritance is one not fully known to me, but you can cherish the memory of James Garston as one faithful to the trust of a stormy past, whose echoes I beg you never to awaken. “Should your beloved mother marry Senator Alynton, one of America’s noblest men, you would find his counsels wise, his honored name a shelter, and your securely invested fortune, of course, now makes you independent of all possible financial disaster. “The same caution holds as to Mrs. Katharine Vreeland, who has already left New York for a protracted sojourn abroad. “There are sorrows which are sacred. It rests with you alone to bring back the happiness which she craves to your mother’s sorely tried heart.” The old gentleman paused, for the proud girl’s cheeks were glowing. “Shall we be allies?” he simply said. “I have served your mother, the noblest woman whom I ever met, in loyalty for fifteen long years.” The grateful girl smiled through her tears.