Golden made no reply to this well-meant solace, for the door opened to admit Mrs. Desmond, followed by her young lady guest. Golden retreated shyly to the furthest corner of the room. She was face to face at last with her haughty cousin Elinor. She drooped her head a moment sadly, while a flood of memories rushed over her, then bravely lifted it again and looked at the young lady through her disfiguring green glasses. Elinor Glenalvan only glanced with careless indifference at the prim-looking figure of the nurse, then her large, black eyes turned away again, so that Golden had time to observe her with impunity. The Glenalvans had exerted themselves to the utmost to secure an outfit for Elinor. The result did credit to their efforts. The girl was certainly dazzling. She wore cream-colored _moire_, trimmed with rich Spanish lace and cardinal satin. Great clusters of Jaqueminot roses burned on her bosom and in her shining, raven hair. The costly pearl necklace that John Glenalvan had taken from Golden was clasped around her white throat. A throb of resentment stirred the young girl's breast as she observed it. Mrs. Desmond wore white lace looped with diminutive and richly-colored sunflowers. Her jewels were diamonds, and she was as usual brilliantly beautiful and graceful. Golden caught her breath in awed admiration of the two beautiful women. "Are you ready, Ruby?" inquired Mrs. Desmond. "Yes, mamma," said the child, blithely. All three went out then, and Golden threw a dark shawl over her head and went out upon the seashore. It was a moonlight night, calm and still, with that slight chill in the air that comes with September. She sat down, a quiet, forlorn little figure on the lonely sands, and watched the great foam-capped waves rolling in to her feet. Something in the immensity and solemnity of the great ocean seemed to calm the turbulence of the fevered young heart and whisper a gentle "peace, be still," to the passions that racked her wronged and outraged spirit. CHAPTER XXVI. As Golden had feared, little Ruby's day and night of excitement proved too much for her. She was unable to rise from her bed the next morning, being prostrated by one of her nervous headaches. To add to her ill-feeling, damp, rainy weather set in during the night, spoiling all the pleasant plans of the newly-arrived party for the day. Golden darkened the room, lighted a fire on the hearth, and carefully tended the little patient who dozed fitfully until mid-day, when she awakened and declared herself better. "Has no one been in to see me, Mary?" she inquired, and Golden answered: "Yes, your mamma came to the door while you were sleeping, but went away again, saying that she would not disturb your rest." "You may go and tell her to come now, Mary." "I think she is with your uncle just now, dear. Cannot you wait a little while?" said Golden. "She said she would go to him a little while, as you were asleep.