"When you are thinking of the time, not far away, when you shall not part from him any more--suppose that just then I, a friend whom you have loved, come to you and say: 'This hero of yours is false; he is a two-faced villain; he has deceived you; he is not honorable; he will betray you if he can.' What would you answer me?" Claire lifted her head proudly. "I would make you take back every word you had uttered, or prove it beyond the shadow of a doubt!" "And if I proved it?" "Then I would thank you; and hate myself for having been deceived, and him for having deceived me." "Would you grieve for him, Claire?" Quick as thought came the answer: "Grieve for him! No; I could no more love a liar and a villain than I could caress a viper! I tell you, Madeline, I understand your feelings when you say that you hate Lucian Davlin," shuddering. "And you would not hate me also for rudely undeceiving you?" "Hate my best friend; my benefactor? No!" "I am thankful!" "But, Madeline, what does all this mean? Is this what you wanted to say to me? What can my feelings have to do with your case?" "Claire,"--Madeline's face was very sad again--"this case is _our_ case." "_Our_ case?" "Yes, ours; Olive's, yours, mine. And now I am going to test your strength." Claire did not look very strong just then. "You saw Edward Percy to-day." Claire Keith sprang to her feet. "How do you know that? And what has he to do with the case?" "I know it because we, Mr. Percy and myself, came to this city by the same train, and I could easily surmise that his business here was with you." "Well?" haughtily. "Ah!" sadly; "you are almost angry with me now. But listen, Claire. Are you perfectly familiar with all the facts connected with poor Philip Girard's sad disgrace?" "I think so," coldly. "You know that he was convicted upon the testimony of Lucian Davlin and another?" "Yes." "Do you recall the name of the man who was wounded, so said the jury, by Mr. Girard?" Up sprang Claire, her eyes blazing. "Madeline," she cried, "I see what you are coming at. You have got into your head the ridiculous idea that this man Percy and Edward Percy are the same. It is absurd!" "Why?" "Because--because it _is_!" Then, as if the matter were quite settled, "why, he must have been in Europe at the time." "Claire, you are getting angry with me, and I have a long story to tell you. But there is an easy way to settle this matter. Are you willing to let me take the picture you have of Edward Percy, and accompany me into Olive's presence while I ask her if she ever saw the original?" Nothing else could have so effectually quenched Claire's wrath. She saw that Madeline had some strong reason for her strange words. Sitting down with paling cheeks and trembling limbs, she thought. Then looking across at Madeline, she said, wearily: