"My God!" he muttered, hoarsely; and turning, fled from the spot in mad haste, like one pursued by fiends. He believed that he had seen a veritable ghost, for it was the pale, lovely face of Kathleen Carew into which he had gazed so wildly--Kathleen, whom he believed dead. So he fled from the spot as wildly as his trembling limbs would permit. Kathleen had always disliked and despised Ivan Belmont, so she only smiled scornfully at his precipitate flight, and began to ascend the marble steps, her heart beating with joy at the thought of meeting her father again. "I wonder if James will be frightened, too, and run away, thinking me a ghost?" she murmured, with a sad little smile, as she rang the bell. But it was not James who opened the door to her; it was a total stranger, who stared in surprise at the sight of a beautiful, refined-looking young girl out alone on such a stormy night. All the old servants had been discharged after Kathleen's death, because they had irritated Mrs. Carew by grieving after their young mistress. So the man looked in wonder at the strange young girl with the rich golden hair and flashing dark eyes who stepped across the threshold as if she belonged there, and said to him with gentle imperiousness: "Tell your master there is a young lady to see him." Without waiting for a reply, Kathleen brushed past the astonished servant, entered a small reception-room on her right, and sat down to await the entrance of her father. She had not mentioned her name, because she wanted to take him by surprise. She wanted to see the joy-light flash into his handsome face when she should throw herself into his arms and cry out, tenderly: "Papa, darling, it is I, your little Kathleen, come home to you again!" How glad he would be to see her again! He had always loved her so fondly that his heart must have almost broken when they told him she was dead. And how glad he would be to have her back again. How his eyes would flash when she told him how wretchedly she had been treated. He would certainly call in the strong arm of the law to punish her persecutors. Only she did not want them to do anything to old Mrs. Hoover, the kind matron who had befriended her in the asylum. She sunk down into a beautiful satin chair with a sigh of relief at getting back to papa and home again--her beautiful home, so warm, so luxurious, filled with the rich odor of hot-house flowers, in strong contrast to the storm raging bleakly outside. The man-servant, somewhat amazed at her coolness in entering the reception-room, but supposing her to be some intimate friend of the family, went in search of his mistress. "A young lady is in the small reception-room asking for Mr. Belmont," he said. He had naturally supposed that Kathleen meant Ivan Belmont, as he was the only man connected with the house. "Did you send Mr. Belmont to her?"