When Lady Quaintree came down, she found the three young people sitting near one of the windows, engaged in what seemingly was an agreeable and almost lively conversation. As she stood for a moment at the door, an odd thought struck her for the first time. “What a charming wife for Frank Blanchette would make!” she said to herself. She pressed Frank to stay to dinner, and he very gladly accepted her invitation. Although saddened by the absence of the master of the house, the little dinner-party was extremely pleasant. Gerald returned just in time to meet his mother, the young ladies, and his Cousin Frank, in the drawing-room before they went down-stairs. As Frank was a member of the family, he had every right and excuse, though not living in the house, to linger after dinner. He felt loath to depart. Not only was every moment spent in the presence of Lois exquisitely sweet to him; but it might be long before he could conveniently obtain so favorable an opportunity for speaking to her as he should probably find this evening. He was right in staying; for the moment came at last. Lady Quaintree was up-stairs, Gerald and Miss Dormer were talking together, and there seemed no immediate fear of interruption. Then Frank Amberley braced up his nerves, and prepared himself for the duty he had undertaken. He thought it best to inform Lois of the entire story, as far as he was master thereof, withholding the name of the lady, however, and the fact that she had been already married when she became the wife of Paul Desfrayne. He thought that if the search for the Padre Josef should prove unsuccessful, as it probably might do, it would not be well either to unsettle Lois’ mind, or to fix an additional brand on Captain Desfrayne. Lois listened in dead silence, pulling out the lace of her handkerchief mechanically. It was not until the close of the little history that she made any comment. Frank ended at the stormy departure of the signora on the morning of her marriage with Captain Desfrayne. “It is a sad story,” she said, in a low, faint tone. “I am deeply sorry for him; and I am--I am sorry that--that his name should have been--been linked with mine in--in Mr. Vere Gardiner’s will.” “I rely upon you not to let any one have a suspicion of this unfortunate affair,” urged Frank Amberley. Lois assured him she would keep the matter a profound secret. She longed to get away to the solitude of her own chamber, there to reflect on what she had heard; but could think of no excuse. A strange, unaccountable sinking of the heart oppressed her. “Why do I thus think about one who is a stranger to me, and can never be aught else?” she asked herself. “I must dismiss the subject from my mind forever after this night.” And yet she caught herself wondering when she should again meet Paul Desfrayne, and planning how she should behave to him.