“When the eyes of Rahas grew larger and larger they seemed to fade away and to leave a great light. And standing up against the light was my mother, with her own sweet smile upon her face and her grand bearing. (My mother is like an empress in her walk, in her movements, Mr. Lauriston.) And she put out her hand towards me and I thought she said ‘Stay.’ And then, before I could speak to her she faded away, and I felt a weight at my heart, and tried to sigh, and could not. And then a blank came, and next I heard the voice of Mammy Ellis, and I opened my eyes and saw her and Rahas.” “Perhaps,” suggested Lauriston, who was by no means ready to acknowledge that another man had an influence, mesmeric or otherwise, over the girl he loved, “perhaps you really did see a figure that you took for that of your mother.” Nouna laughed scornfully at the notion. “As if I could mistake her! I heard her voice, I saw her smile. It was my mother.” Lauriston turned to Mrs. Ellis. “Was there no possibility of any one entering the room and leaving it quickly without your seeing her?” “Oh no,” said she at once. “Besides, Nouna fell with her head buried among the cushions, and her eyes were closed the whole time.” “Nouna,” said Lauriston abruptly, after a pause, “you must not speak to that man again. The whole proceeding was a most disgraceful piece of trickery, such as no girl ought to be subjected to. Mrs. Ellis, I am writing to-night to the Countess di Valdestillas, to ask her to permit my engagement with her daughter. Now that you know the interest I take in her, you will forgive my urging you to be careful that she obeys my earnest wish in this. I shall not wait for a letter to inform her that her daughter is not in a safe home: I shall go to-morrow to the Countess’s solicitors, learn her address, and telegraph. And now I will say good-night, and I hope, Mrs. Ellis, you will forgive me this second nocturnal visit.” He shook hands with both ladies, and disregarding Nouna’s undisguised anxiety to accompany him to the door, asked the elder lady if he could speak with her a few moments alone. With as much jealous indignation as if Mrs. Ellis had been eighteen and beautiful, Nouna flung herself into her American chair in a passion of tears as they left the room. Lauriston opened his subject in a very low voice as soon as he and the governess were outside the door. “You will need no assurance from me, madam,” he began, “of the perfect loyalty of my motives, now you know that I intend to marry Nouna. But you will not be surprised at my anxiety to know something more about the family to which she belongs. As a matter of fact I have not even heard her surname. Have you any objection to tell me what you know?”