Her explanation of the scene Broughton had surprised her in was simple and plausible. “This girl came here to get a piece of silk from me for her employer. I recognized her as your friend, and my temper got the better of my reason. “She fainted when I told her of the wrong she was doing me--your promised wife--and as this fact in itself would have convinced me of her friendship for you, I confess I was bitterly angry; and in my desire to be revenged upon this little pauper who has succeeded in destroying my happiness, I would have sent her out of this house without one penny of the two hundred dollars she had just taken from the bank for Madam Ward. “Now you know all the truth, Charles, and here and now I want you to choose between us--this pauper--this dressmaker’s apprentice--and myself.” The widow’s face was actually ablaze with anger, and Broughton, knowing the need he had for her fortune, resolved to conciliate her at all hazards, regardless of the injury he must do his own child. “My dear Clara,” he began, encircling her form with one arm despite her feeble effort to resist him, “you have caused yourself a world of unnecessary trouble and heartache. So far from loving this girl am I, that I may safely assure you the feeling I cherish for her is one more closely approaching to hatred. I told you on the occasion of my first meeting with her in the home of your seamstress, Jenny Mason, that her face reminded me of a woman whom I considered my deadliest enemy. “I have since discovered that she is the daughter of this enemy, and I have to revenge myself on the mother through the child. Some day, my own Clara, when you are my wife, and our interests are identical, I shall tell you all the story of my past; but you have assured me over and over again that you trusted me implicitly, and now is the time to prove your sincerity. I shall test it to the utmost, Clara, and--but see, the girl is reviving--keep the money in your own possession until we can venture to send it to the owner anonymously, and deny all knowledge of it should she,”--with a careless motion of his head toward the figure on the floor--“discover its loss before leaving the house, and----” At this moment there was a hasty knock at the door, and the voice of a servant outside begging the privilege of a few words with her mistress. Mrs. Neville left the room to ascertain the cause of this interruption. As she passed out of the room, Iris opened wide her blue eyes and raised herself on her elbow, looking around her in bewilderment. The instant her eyes fell on Broughton, who stood coolly looking down upon her, she remembered the scene through which she had lately passed, and arose to her feet as rapidly as her feeble strength would allow, disdaining the aid of his proffered hand. The man did not wait for her to speak, but placing a chair for her, almost forced her to be seated.