While Violet gazed at her in blended hope and fear she went on, in a low, intense voice: “Lady, I am no more a French maid than yourself. I disguised myself and answered Castello’s advertisement for a maid to further my own designs. My eyes are brown, to be sure; but my skin is as white, my hair as golden as yours, only that both are darkened by a brown dye that changes my appearance entirely. Else I should not dare venture into Castello’s presence for fear of recognition.” “Who, then, are you, and why----” began Violet, but the maid interrupted: “I am your friend and Castello’s enemy! When I talked to you so strangely in the boudoir it was all for effect, because I knew he was listening at the door. I bided my time to tell you the truth, and to help you to escape from the fiend’s power!” Violet’s eyes began to glow with hope and joy. “Oh, may Heaven bless you and reward you for your goodness!” she cried, clasping the speaker’s neck with grateful arms. But with a long-drawn sigh, full of remorseful grief, the woman shrank away, answering, fearfully: “Lady, you might not wish to touch me if you knew who and what I am. Have you ever heard the name of Lena Lavarre?” CHAPTER XXIX. “MY OWN HONOR MADE ME KEEP THE AWFUL SECRET.” “Lena Lavarre!” cried Violet, with a start and shudder, and the woman shrank away still farther. “You have heard my name--my story! You shrink from me!” she cried, humbly. “No, no, my poor girl, I pity you!” cried Violet, and held out her hand. Lena Lavarre took it in both her own and kissed it gratefully; then continued: “You know that I eloped with Harold Castello and was deceived by a mock marriage in Chicago and then deserted. You know that my father pursued the villain and was murdered by him. You witnessed the deed, lady, for I heard you declare as much to Harold Castello. You taunted him with the ruin of an innocent girl and the murder of her father.” “It is true. I was a witness to that old man’s death at Harold Castello’s hands,” shuddered Violet, turning deadly pale, and almost swooning again at the recollection. “Oh, lady, why did you not denounce the murderer, for your evidence would have convicted him? Why did you let the case baffle all Chicago and remain a mystery to this day, when you should have brought that fiend to justice?” almost wept Lena Lavarre. Violet flushed crimson, then grew deadly pale again. “I did wrong in keeping silence, Miss Lavarre, but I will tell you how it was. My own safety, my own honor, made me keep the awful secret.” “Your honor, lady?”