There was a sudden clash, and a momentary confusion. My lady, lifting her glass with that shaking hand, had let it fall, and it was shivered to atoms on the floor. "And you never saw the lady afterward?" May asked. "Never. Legard received regular remittances, mailed, oddly enough, from your town here--Plymouth. The lady told him, if he ever had occasion to address her--which he never did have, that I know of--to address Madam Ada, Plymouth! He brought me up, educated me, taught me his art and died. I was old enough then to comprehend my position, and the first use I made of that knowledge was to return 'Madam Ada' her remittances, with a few sharp lines that effectually put an end to hers." "Have you never tried to ferret out the mystery of your birth and this Madam Ada?" inquired Sir Rupert. Mr. Legard shook his head. "No; why should I? I dare say I should have no reason to be proud of my parents if I did find them, and they evidently were not very proud of me. 'Where ignorance is bliss,' etc. If destiny has decreed it, I shall know, sooner or later; if destiny has not, then my puny efforts will be of no avail. But if presentiments mean anything, I shall one day know; and I have no doubt, if I searched Devonshire, I should find Madam Ada." May Everard started up with a cry, for Lady Thetford had fallen back in one of those sudden spasms to which she had lately become subject. In the universal consternation Guy Legard and his story were forgotten. "I hope what _I_ said had nothing to do with this," he cried, aghast; and the one following so suddenly upon the other made the remark natural enough. But Sir Rupert turned upon him in haughty surprise. "What _you_ said! Lady Thetford, unfortunately, has been subject to these attacks for the past two years, Mr. Legard. That will do, May; let me assist my mother to her room." May drew back. Lady Thetford was able to rise, ghastly and trembling, and, supported by her son's arm, walked from the room. "Lady Thetford's health is very delicate, I fear," Mr. Legard murmured, sympathetically. "I really thought for a moment my story-telling had occasioned her sudden illness." Miss Everard fixed a pair of big, shining eyes in solemn scrutiny on his face--that face so like the pictured one of Sir Noel Thetford. "A very natural supposition," thought the young lady; "so did _I_." "You never knew Sir Noel?" Guy Legard said, musingly; "but, of course, you did not. Sir Rupert has told me he died before he was born." "I never saw him," said May; "but those who have seen him in this house--our housekeeper, for instance--stand perfectly petrified at your extraordinary likeness to him. Mrs. Hilliard says you have given her a 'turn' she never expects to get over." Mr. Legard smiled, but was grave again directly. "It is odd--odd--very odd!" "Yes," said May Everard, with a sagacious nod; "a great deal, too, to be a chance resemblance. Hush! here comes Rupert. Well, how have you left mamma?"