But the woman started even as she asked the question, while her glance searched Virgie’s face with an eager, wondering look. Something in its delicate outlines and striking beauty seemed to arouse long dormant memories. “Miss Alexander,” said Lady Huntington; “she and her mother arrived from New York only ten days ago. Would you like an introduction? She is very charming, and wonderfully well informed for a girl of her age.” “Um!—yes, presently; but——Sadie, do tell me who she looks like!” and Mrs. Farnum, for it was she, turned to a queenly woman near by, to draw her attention to the fair stranger. Sadie Farnum, or Lady Royalston, as she was now known, had long since resigned all hope of becoming the mistress of Heathdale, and, having married a wealthy lord twice her age, had given herself up to fashion and society. “Of whom are you speaking, mamma?” “Of that girl who is standing beside Helen Huntington. Of whom does she remind you?” “I am sure I cannot tell,” Lady Royalston answered, searching the bright face to which her attention had been called. “It certainly has a familiar look, and yet one that I cannot place. She is very pretty.” Mrs. Farnum did not reply, but continued to follow every movement of that graceful form, every expression of the sweet countenance, while she searched the chambers of her memory for its counterpart and the circumstances under which she had seen it. Presently the two girls approached Lady Huntington, when she passed her arm around Virgie’s slight waist, saying: “My dear, I wish to introduce you to an old friend who has been inquiring about you. Mrs. Farnum, allow me to present our young guest, Miss Virgie Alexander.” CHAPTER XIII. RUPERT’S REQUEST. “Virgie Alexander!” repeated Mrs. Farnum to herself, as she acknowledged the presentation, and it almost seemed as if some one had struck a blow upon her heart as she recalled that long-forgotten name and looked into that delicate, clear-cut face, while a vision from out of the past suddenly rose to confront her. She saw the tall, slight figure of a beautiful woman very like this young girl, standing straight and proud before her, as, with a face of agony and a voice full of despair, she asserted her own purity and her child’s legitimacy, and hurled back scorn for scorn upon the arrogant women who repudiated her claim and tried to crush her with a vile conspiracy. Again she seemed to hear those ringing, prophetic words, “My child is also the lawful child of Sir William Heath; she is the heiress of Heathdale, and she shall yet occupy the position that rightfully belongs to her. Let your ‘peer of the realm and his honored family’ take warning; the time will come when a righteous judgment will overtake them.”