Pansy sat down just inside the parlor door, which she carefully closed, thus shutting out the gaping servants. Colonel Falconer set himself to the task of quieting his hysterical niece. Believing herself alone with him, she soon grew calmer, and asked: “Oh, uncle, where did you find that girl? I thought she was dead!” “Of whom does she remind you, dear?” he asked soothingly. Shivering with terror, she replied: “Of Pansy Laurens, the girl who made all the trouble between Norman and myself. You know, it was thought she drowned herself, but now I can no longer believe it, for surely this is no other than Pansy Laurens!” Pansy sat motionless, and heard her husband saying sternly: “You will oblige me, Juliette, by never making such foolish remarks again. I never saw Pansy Laurens; but if my wife resembles her, that is nothing but a chance likeness. Mrs. Falconer was a Miss Wilcox, of Louisville, and has never been in Richmond until to-day.” “Oh, uncle, are you sure? For indeed she frightened me with her awful likeness, although I believe she is prettier than that Laurens creature,” gasped Juliette. “Prettier--well, I should say so! My wife is the loveliest creature on earth!” exclaimed the jovial colonel. But Juliette, still shivering, sighed: “How can I live in the same house with that face and voice?” CHAPTER XVIII. A FALSE SMILE. Colonel Falconer began to grow angry at Juliette’s foolishness, as he called it to himself. Drawing back from her, he said stiffly: “If you cannot live in the same house with my wife, Juliette, you are quite at liberty to seek a boarding house anywhere you choose, and I will pay your board and furnish you pin money.” Juliette sprang upright in a perfect fury, shrieking out: “You are planning to get rid of me already!” Before the poor, badgered man could reply, Pansy came gliding forward, and said sweetly: “Perhaps Miss Ives would prefer for us to go away, and leave her in possession of the house. If so, I am perfectly willing to do so, as I fear we shall not get on together, judging from what I have already seen of her disposition toward me.” She hoped that Juliette would take her at her word, and that by this means she would be enabled to leave this once dear, now dreaded, city. She was frightened, too, at Juliette’s recognition of her, and foresaw trouble if she remained. But Juliette was startled at her uncle’s proposition, and she began to come to her senses. She remembered that but for his liberality she must be a beggar, and she dared not try him too far. Summoning a false, sweet smile to her lips, she turned to him, and exclaimed: