"And so that inhuman wretch is Marion's mother?" said Vera. "The child of a creature who deliberately murdered a husband and tried to destroy his family so that she could get everything into her hands! No wonder that Marion has been a changed creature since this Mrs. May has been about! How I pity her anguish and condition of mind! But had Marion a sister?" "Not that I ever heard of. Why?" "I was thinking of that other girl, the girl so like Marion that you were talking about just now. What has become of her?" Geoffrey shook his head. He had forgotten that most mysterious personage. It was more than likely, he explained, that Tchigorsky would know. Not that it much mattered. The two were silent for some little time, then a peal of laughter from the drawing-room caused them to smile. "My mother," said Vera. "I have not heard her laugh like that for years. Does it not seem funny to realize that before long we shall be laughing and chatting and moving with the world once more, Geoff? I should like to leave Ravenspur and have a long, long holiday on the Continent." Geoffrey stooped and kissed her. "So you shall, sweet," he said. "We can be married now. And when we come back to Ravenspur it will be the dear old home I recollect in my childhood's days. Vera, you and I shall be the happiest couple in the world." They went back to the drawing room again. Here the elders were conversing quietly yet happily. There was an air of cheerful gaiety upon them that the house had not know for many a long day. Gordon Ravenspur was impressing upon his father the necessity of looking more sharply after the shooting. The head of the family had before him some plans of new farm buildings. It was marvelous what a change the last few hours had wrought. And the author of all the sorrow and anguish was upstairs guarded by eyes that never tired. "How bright and cheerful you look," Vera said. "It only wants one thing to make the picture complete. You can guess, dear grandfather." "Marion," Ravenspur said. "Marion, of course." "She will come back," Ralph murmured. "Marion will return. We know now that no harm could come to the girl. I should not wonder if she were not on her way home this very moment." Half an hour passed, an hour elapsed, and yet no Marion. They were all getting uneasy but Ralph, who sat doggedly in his chair. Then there was a commotion outside, the door opened, and Marion came in. She looked pale and uneasy. She glanced from one to the other with frightened eyes. It was easy to see that she was greatly moved and, moreover, was not sure as to the warmth of her reception. But she might have made her mind easy on that score. All rose to welcome her. "My dear, dear child," Vera cried. "Where have you been?" Vera fluttered forward and took off Marion's cloak. All seemed to be delighted. Marion dropped into a chair with quivering smile. Ralph had felt his way across to her and stood by the side of her chair.