“Calm yourself, Miss Vale,” implored the lawyer. She clashed the tears from her eyes, looked at him half-defiantly, and answered, in a steely voice: “Nothing in what you have told me shows any cause for me to give up the search for new evidence to prove my mother’s innocence of all that with which she is charged.” “You will only bring down irretrievable ruin upon your head,” he protested, growing alarmed at what seemed to him her stubborn hardihood. “No,” she answered; “I shall triumph by the help of God, and then you will applaud me for my courage and my loyalty. Ah! I understand you, Mr. Gardner; you believe that might is right. You believe my mother was guilty because she could not defend herself, because she could not ward off the blows struck at her in the dark by a cowardly dastard. But wait, wait, and you shall yet see me avenge the wrongs of my parents. All is not lost while there is courage in one brave heart. “You see how I feel. I cannot take your advice not to reopen the case. I shall bend every energy to the purpose I am sworn to. As for you, you shall help me or not, as you choose. I give you two days, Mr. Gardner, to decide what you will do. No, do not refuse without consideration. Think of it, weigh it well, and remember that a young girl’s prayers go up every hour to Heaven for your consent.” He was about to speak, but she silenced him again with a queenly gesture. “I will not take your answer for two days, sir. Come to me then with the words of consent on your lips. If you refuse me, I shall only go to another lawyer; I have money to push the investigation, and I shall not falter in my purpose, believe me.” “So I have told you that dark story all in vain!” he exclaimed unhappily. “No, not in vain, sir, for it has given me another important clue to work on. Oh, that Francis Murray were alive to-day that I might wrest from his unwilling lips the name of my mother’s traducer, whom I believe to be my father’s murderer!” With a deep sigh, he took her hand to say good-by. “God help you and bless you, you brave, noble girl!” he exclaimed, with irrepressible admiration of her courage in the face of such black despair, and he went away with a keen pain in his heart at the thought of her ultimate failure. CHAPTER XVI. ITALY’S RESOLUTION. The lawyer had scarcely taken his departure before Italy had another visitor. It was that dainty, blonde beauty--Alexie Audenreid. She looked lovely in a handsome carriage-suit of dark-blue cloth and velvet that formed so pleasing a contrast with her curly, golden hair and peachy complexion. Her dazzling, dark-blue eyes were radiant with happiness. “Are you ready to go for your sitting this morning? My coupé is waiting,” she said, then started in surprise at Italy’s agitated looks. Ralph Allen was painting their portraits, and they went together each morning for alternate sittings.