"Moritz, is this my dear new sister?" asked Gwen, with a smile so bright and warm that it quite transfigured her plain face. And then, with frank kindness, she put her arms round Mollie and kissed her. "Mollie, you must be very good to me," she went on. And now there were tears in her eyes. "Moritz is my only brother, and we have been everything to each other. Have we not, old boy?" And Gwen pinched his ear playfully, and then greeted Waveney and her cousin Althea in the warmest fashion. There was a little hubbub of talking and laughter, and then Moritz drew Mollie's arm through his and led her away. Probably Gwen had had her orders, for, instead of following them, she made room for Waveney on the wide window-seat. "There is something Moritz wishes me to tell you," she said, quietly, "and that he is telling your sister now." However important Moritz's communication might be, it had to be deferred until Mollie had exhausted her whole vocabulary of admiring terms at the sight of the noble gallery. It was a drawing-room and ball-room as well as a picture-gallery. Three great fireplaces, with their cosy environment of luxurious lounges and easy-chairs, gave warmth to the whole room. And on the other side were windows with deep recesses, every one forming separate cosy nooks. In one was a low tea-table and a circle of easy-chairs. Another was fitted with an inlaid writing-table and cabinet. A third contained only a low velvet divan. It was in this last recess that Moritz at last contrived to detain Molly. "Dear Mollie," he said, gently but firmly, "there will be plenty of time to look at the pictures and sculpture after luncheon; but I want you to listen to me a moment. I have to ask your forgiveness for a little deception." Moritz's face was so grave that Mollie regarded him with astonishment. "My forgiveness! Are you joking, Moritz?" "No, darling, I am quite serious. I have brought you here under false pretences. But I will tell you all about it by-and-by. Dearest, this is your future home. It is here that you and I are to spend our lives together. Moritz Ingram and Viscount Ralston are one and the same person." Mollie's face grew white. The little hand he held trembled with emotion. "Oh, no, not really?" she gasped. "Yes, really, my sweet one. But I cannot have you look so pale and frightened." Then, as Mollie glanced shyly at him, he caught her suddenly to his breast. "My little blessing," he whispered. "You loved your old friend, Monsieur Blackie; but you will not tell me now, I hope, that Ralston is to be less dear to you." "No, no!" stammered Mollie; "but I cannot understand. Oh, Moritz, why did you do it?"