"Where did you get it?" cried Claire. "It is he; Edward Percy!" Mrs. Ralston started forward and took the picture from her hand. "_It is my husband!_" she whispered. With the words on her lips, she fell heavily to the floor, in a dead faint. When Mrs. Ralston awoke to consciousness, she was lying upon her bed, with Dr. Vaughan bending over her, Olive standing near, and Claire a little aloof, looking pale and anxious. Her first thought was of the picture. "Where is it?" she murmured, addressing Claire, who stepped forward eagerly. "It is here, dear Mrs. Ralston," said Claire. "I caught it from your hand after you fell. I thought--" And then she hesitated. "I understand," she said, looking at the girl fixedly. "Drop it from your hand, Claire; drop it _there_," pointing to the grate. "It has done its work; we need never look upon it again." Claire obeyed her silently. For the second time she had consigned to the flames the pictured face of Edward Percy. To the surprise of the three who had so lately seen her coming slowly back from the swoon, so like death, Mrs. Ralston raised herself to a sitting posture, and then slowly arose from the bed and stood upright before them, and there was a flush on her cheek, and a light in her eyes that was new to that usually pale, sad face. "Dear friends," she said, turning toward Clarence and Olive, who had been watching the burning of the picture with surprised and somewhat curious eyes, "I am quite recovered; and I want to think. Will you please leave me alone, quite alone, for a little while?" Olive, Claire and Clarence went slowly and silently down to the drawing-room, Claire keeping very close to her sister and carefully avoiding the eyes of the young man. Seating herself beside Olive, Claire told, in her own way, all that she knew of the affair. "I wanted to tell Mrs. Ralston of Madeline," she commenced, "and, not to omit anything, I told her poor Philip's story,--all about the two men, and how the man, Percy, had appeared at Oakley as the lover of Miss Arthur. When I spoke his name, she ran to her room, almost dragging me with her, and--" Suddenly she paused, horrified at a sudden thought. How could she explain to these two, who knew nothing of her "affair" with Edward Percy--who did not dream that she had ever seen his face--her ability to recognize the picture Mrs. Ralston had shown her? "And?" interrogated Olive. Clarence Vaughan saw that there was a reason for her hesitation, and while wondering what it could be, came to her rescue. "And fainted, of course," said he. "Well, she is better now, and perhaps we shall hear the conclusion of the mystery all in good time." If she had dared, Claire would have given him a glance of gratitude. As it was, she only averted her face and felt herself a great hypocrite.