The visitor hesitated and moaned. All her eager desire to overwhelm Rose Cameron's rival with the shameful news of her bridegroom's previous marriage and living wife had evaporated, leaving only deep sympathy and compassion for the sweet young girl, who looked so kindly, and spoke so gentle. Yet deeply she felt that, even for this gentle girl's sake, she must reveal the fatal secret! It was dreadful enough and humiliating enough to have had the marriage ceremony read over herself and an already married man, the husband of a living woman; but it would be infinitely worse, it would be horrible and shameful, to let her go off in ignorance, believing herself to be that man's wife--to travel with him over Europe. All this, the honest woman from Westminster Road knew and felt, yet she had not the courage now to shock that gentle girl's heart by telling the news which must stop her journey. "Please excuse me; but I must really beg you to be quick in telling me what I can do to serve you. My time is limited. Within an hour we have to catch the tidal train to Dover. And--I have much to do in the interim," said the young duchess, speaking with gentle courtesy to this poor, shabby woman in the rusty widow's weeds. "Ah, my lady--grace, I mean! there is no need of being quick! When you hear all I have to tell you--to my sorrow as well as yours, my grace!--your hurry will all be over; and you will not care about catching the tidal train--not if you are the lady as I take my--_your_ grace to be!" "What do you mean?" inquired Salome, in low, tremulous tones. "My lady--grace, I mean! will you send your maid away? What I have to tell you, must be told to you alone," whispered the visitor. "Margaret, you may retire. I will ring when I want you," said the young duchess. And her maid, disgusted, for her curiosity had been strongly aroused, left the room and closed the door. And, as Margaret had too much self-respect to listen at the key-hole, she remained in ignorance of what passed between the young duchess and the uncanny visitor. "Your strange words trouble me," said Salome, as soon as she found herself alone with her visitor. "Ay, my lady, your grace, I know it. And I am sorry for it. But I cannot help it. And, indeed, I'm very much afeared as I shall trouble you more afore I am done." "Then pray proceed. Tell me at once all you have to tell. And permit me to remind you that my time is limited," urged the young duchess. "Ay, madam, my lady--grace, I mean. But grant me your pardon if I repeat that there is indeed no hurry. You will not take the tidal train to Dover. Not if you be the Christian lady as I take you for," gravely replied the visitor. "I must really insist upon your speaking out plainly and at once," said Salome, with more of firmness than she had as yet exhibited, although her pale cheeks grew a shade paler.