It was February now, and a month had passed since Camille had returned to Verelands, bringing trouble and sorrow in her train. She was there still, and she began to believe that she was quite safe in her wickedness, as Norman de Vere had not yet betrayed her to the law for the murder of Robert Lacy. “He will not do it, because the old love makes me sacred in his eyes,” she thought, triumphantly, little dreaming that it was for his mother’s sake Norman kept silence. He was only waiting until she should be strong enough to bear the news that Camille, in whom she had always believed, whose part she had always taken, was a cruel murderess. “I would have spared her still, as I have spared her all these years, if she had let me--but she has been merciless!” he thought, remembering all that his darlings had suffered at her vindictive hands; and he knew that the time of her betrayal must come soon, for to-day his mother was strong enough to be removed from the cabin to Verelands. Norman had not intended to take his mother back to Verelands until his enemy had left it; but a letter from Lord Stuart had changed his mind about the matter. Lord Stuart had begged in a most impressive manner that Norman and his mother would be at Verelands on a certain day, when he also, with his sister, would arrive to make their anticipated visit. “I have found Thea and little Alan,” he wrote. “They are both well, and longing for the day when they will be restored to your heart. I have met Doctor Frank Hinton, an old friend of yours, here, too, and I took the liberty of inviting him to Jacksonville. Poor fellow, he is very sad. His mother died lately, and his father is in ill-health. His brother and sister are married, and he feels almost forsaken in spite of his fine practice here; so I thought it would cheer him a bit to bring him with us. I shall bring other guests, too, that I hope may not be unwelcome. I hope you will receive us in your drawing-room, and if your enemy insists on receiving us also, permit her to have her way. I will soon find a way to make Verelands uncomfortable for her, and she will be glad to depart. As a last request, will you kindly have ready the little garments worn by Little Sweetheart when you found her? Perhaps I may throw some light on the mystery of her origin.” Norman had read that letter over and over, each time with a wildly throbbing heart, for it seemed to him as if Lord Stuart must hold in his hands the threads of some mystery that only he could unravel. Hope began to sing her sweet pæans of joy again in his soul, and he grew eagerly impatient as the time drew near for the coming of the party from the West. Camille and her maid were in a flurry of nervous excitement after the arrival of Norman and his mother. They scarcely knew what to think--whether the arrival was a portent of good or ill to themselves.