“Thou canst not restore me the depth and the truth Of the dreams that came o’er me in earliest youth; Their gloss is departed, their magic is flown, And sad and faint-hearted I wander alone.” “His father will be bitterly angry,” said Mrs. Beresford, sighing. “Very likely,” Alva returned, indifferently. “I am sorry you take sides with your brother against us,” stiffly. Alva laughed drearily, then said, coldly: “I glory in his independence!” CHAPTER XXIII. “YOU WICKED, WICKED GIRL!” CRIED THE MIDNIGHT VISITOR. Otho Maury received no answer to the letter he so artfully sent to St. George Beresford. But he had not expected a reply. He knew that the blow must fall with too crushing a weight on the lover’s heart to admit of comment, and he knew also that Beresford would never forgive him for his offense against Floy. He gave up the quest for the missing girl after two weeks, and went back to Mount Vernon distracted with doubt and fear. “I am all at sea,” he confessed, frankly, to Maybelle, who grew pale with anger as she cried: “You have failed!” “Yes, I have failed. There is no clew to her disappearance. She may possibly be dead, but the probabilities are that, frightened by my persecution, she has hidden herself away from all who know her to baffle persecution until Beresford’s return. Let us hope that she is dead.” “She is not dead. She will live to thwart all our hopes!” cried his sister, furiously. Springing to her feet, she stood before him, livid with emotion, hissing: “Oh, how I hate that girl! I wish that I had killed her last night when I had her in my power!” “Last night, Maybelle! Why, what do you mean?” he exclaimed in wonder, clutching her arm and forcing her back to a seat. Maybelle leaned back panting and unnerved for a moment, then cried, bitterly: “I was a fool to be frightened and take her for a ghost!” “Calm yourself, Maybelle, and tell me what you mean,” Otho insisted, excitedly. Fixing her flashing eyes on his face, she said, hoarsely: “Do you know that all the talk for several days has been that Floy’s ghost has been seen several times in Mount Vernon in the past two weeks?” “No--no.” “Well, it is true, Otho. She has been seen three times, they say, by towns-people, twice on foot, and one night on her bicycle. But when spoken to, she did not reply, and vanished like a spirit. So they say that she is surely dead.” He started, and his eyes flashed as he cried: “But you, Maybelle?--you said you saw her last night! Where?” “Here, Otho, in this very house!” “Heavens! then she must be in collusion with Mrs. Banks.” “No, she is not. The woman firmly believes that her _protégée_ is dead.” “Then tell me all. Do you not see how impatient you have made me with your mysterious hints?” She leaned nearer to him and whispered, hoarsely: