There was a loud ring at the bell--a quick opening of the house-door--a rustling of a woman’s dress in the passage. The door of the room opened, and the woman appeared--alone. Not Lady Jane. A stranger--older, years older, than Lady Jane. A plain woman, perhaps, at other times. A woman almost beautiful now, with the eager happiness that beamed in her face. She saw the figure on the sofa. She ran to it with a cry--a cry of recognition and a cry of terror in one. She dropped on her knees--and laid that helpless head on her bosom, and kissed, with a sister’s kisses, that cold, white cheek. “Oh, my darling!” she said. “Is it thus we meet again?” Yes! After all the years that had passed since the parting in the cabin of the ship, it was thus the two school-friends met again. Part the Second. THE MARCH OF TIME. V. ADVANCING from time past to time present, the Prologue leaves the date last attained (the summer of eighteen hundred and fifty-five), and travels on through an interval of twelve years--tells who lived, who died, who prospered, and who failed among the persons concerned in the tragedy at the Hampstead villa--and, this done, leaves the reader at the opening of THE STORY in the spring of eighteen hundred and sixty-eight. The record begins with a marriage--the marriage of Mr. Vanborough and Lady Jane Parnell. In three months from the memorable day when his solicitor had informed him that he was a free man, Mr. Vanborough possessed the wife he desired, to grace the head of his table and to push his fortunes in the world--the Legislature of Great Britain being the humble servant of his treachery, and the respectable accomplice of his crime. He entered Parliament. He gave (thanks to his wife) six of the grandest dinners, and two of the most crowded balls of the season. He made a successful first speech in the House of Commons. He endowed a church in a poor neighborhood. He wrote an article which attracted attention in a quarterly review. He discovered, denounced, and remedied a crying abuse in the administration of a public charity. He received (thanks once more to his wife) a member of the Royal family among the visitors at his country house in the autumn recess. These were his triumphs, and this his rate of progress on the way to the peerage, during the first year of his life as the husband of Lady Jane. There was but one more favor that Fortune could confer on her spoiled child--and Fortune bestowed it. There was a spot on Mr. Vanborough’s past life as long as the woman lived whom he had disowned and deserted. At the end of the first year Death took her--and the spot was rubbed out.