"And now, dearest," she said, after she had been allowed to press the first kiss of troth upon his coy lips, "I should like to know who I am going to be?" "Clorinda Bell, of course," he said. "That is the advantage actresses have. They need not take their husband's name in vain." "Yes, but what am _I_ to call you, dearest?" "Dearest?" he echoed enigmatically. "Let me be dearest--for a little while." She forbore to press him further. For the moment it was enough to have won him. The sweetness of that soothed her wounded vanity at his indifference to the prize coveted by men and convents. Enough that she was to be mated to a great man, whose speech and silence alike bore the stamp of individuality. "Dearest be it," she answered, looking fondly into his Moorish eyes. "Dearest! Dearest!" "Thank you, Clorinda. And now may I see your mother? I have never learnt what she has to say to me." "What does it matter now, dearest?" "More than ever," he said gravely, "now she is to be my mother-in-law." Clorinda bit her lip at the dignified rebuke, and rang for his mother-in-law elect, who came from the sick room in her bonnet. "Mother," she said, as the good dame sailed through the door, "let me introduce you to my future husband." [Illustration: _A Family Reunion._] The old lady's face lit up with surprise and excitement. She stood still for an instant, taking in the relationship so suddenly sprung upon her. Then she darted with open arms towards the Man in the Ironed Mask and strained his Mask to her bosom. "My son! my son!" she cried, kissing him passionately. He blushed like a stormy sunset and tried to disengage himself. "Do not crumple him, mother," said Clorinda pettishly. "Your zeal is overdone." "But he is my long-lost Absalom! Think of the rapture of having him restored to me thus. O what a happy family we shall be! Bless you, Clorinda. Bless you, my children. When is the wedding to be?" The Man in the Ironed Mask had regained his composure. "Mother," he said sternly, "I am glad to see you looking so well. I always knew you would fall on your feet if I dropped you. I have no right to ask it--but as you seem to expect me to marry your daughter, a little information as to the circumstances under which you have supplied me with a sister would be not unwelcome. "Stupid boy! Don't you understand that Miss Bell was good enough to engage me as mother and travelling companion when you left me to starve? Or rather, the impresario who brought her over from America engaged me, and Clorinda has been, oh, so good to me! My little drapery business failed three months after you left me to get a stranger to serve. I had no resource but--to go on the stage." The old woman was babbling on, but the cold steel of Clorinda's gaze silenced her. The outraged actress turned haughtily to the Man in the Ironed Mask. "So _this_ is your mother?" she said with infinite scorn.