"I don't intend to give up my claims upon Madeline; I elected her my sister, when I brought her home with me. And I had been flattering myself that I was to have a companion, but I am afraid she will run away from me. She ought to take Claire's place in my home, ought she not? Claire is with me so little," said Olive. Madeline smiled sadly. "I could never do that," she said; "I could no more fill Claire's place than I could substitute myself for the rays of the sun." "Claire would laugh at you for that speech," said Olive. "But it is true; is it not?" appealing to Doctor Vaughan. He colored slightly under her gaze. "We don't want two Claires," he said; "but you can be yourself, and that will make us happy." The girl let her eyes fall, and rest upon her clasped hands. "I would like to make you happy," she said, softly. "Really?" "Really," lifting her eyes to his face. "Then, promise us that you will let us help to right your wrongs, and that you will come back, like a good sister, and stay with Mrs. Girard." Her face hardened. "I can not," she said, briefly. "You will not," seriously. No answer. "Madeline, what is it you wish to do?" "What I wish to do, I can not. I can tell you what I intend to do," sitting very erect. "Then what do you intend?" "I intend," turning her eyes away from them both, and fixing them moodily upon the fire, "to follow up the path in which I have set my feet. I intend to oust a base adventuress from the home that was my mother's; to wrest the fortune that is mine from the grasp of a bad old man, and make him suffer for the wrong he did my mother. I intend to laugh at Lucian Davlin, when he is safe behind prison bars; to hunt down and frustrate an impostor, and by so doing, clear the name of Philip Girard before all the world." Her voice was low, but very firm, dogged almost, in its tone. He turned a perplexed face toward Olive. "What does it all mean?" he asked. "What she says," replied Mrs. Girard, flushing with suppressed excitement. "She has found a clue that may lead to Philip's release." He moved nearer to the girl, and taking her hand, drew her toward him, until she faced him. "Madeline, is this true?" "Yes." "And you will hold me to a promise not to lift a hand to help clear the name of my friend?" reproachfully. "Yes," unflinchingly. "Are you doing right, my sister?" She attempted to draw away her hand. "Child, what can you do?" She turned her eyes toward Olive. "She will tell you what I have done. I can do much more." Olive came suddenly to her side. "Oh, Madeline!" she said, "let him take all this into his hands. It is not fit work for you. It will harden you, make you bitter, and--" Madeline wrested her hand away and sprang up, standing before them flushed and goaded into bitterness.