For the second time that evening a shiver went through Agnes. Sir Percival watched her as she watched the others across the room. There was a long interval of silence before Claude began to talk to the girl In a low voice, and shortly afterwards went with her through the _portière_ that divided the two drawing-rooms. “I want Clare to see the picture of Dick and myself taken when he was ten and I was eight--you know it, Agnes,” he said, as he followed Clare. The next minute the sound of his voice and Clare's came from the other room. Sir Percival had been examining the case containing the poisoned arrows which lay on a table; but now he stood before Agnes. “You have seen it,” he said. “I know that you have seen it as well as I. Is it too late to send her away?” Agnes started. “It cannot be possible that you, too, know it,” she said. “Oh no; you cannot have become acquainted with that horrible thing.” “I must confess that I never suspected it before this evening,” said he. “But what I have seen here has been enough to tell me all that there is to be told.” She stared at him in silence for a few moments. “What have you been told?” she asked at last. “You cannot have failed to learn the truth,” said he. “You cannot have failed to see that Claude Westwood is in love with that girl.” With a little cry she had sprung to her feet and grasped his arm. “No, no; not that--not that!” she whispered. “Oh no; that would be too horrible!” “It is horrible to think that a man can forget all that he has forgotten. Good heavens! After eight years! Was ever woman so true? Was ever man so false?” “I have been blind--blind! Whatever I may have thought, I never imagined this. He met her aboard the steamer--he must have become attached to her before he saw her with me.” She was speaking in a low voice and without looking at him. He remained silent. She walked across the room with nervous steps. Several times she passed and repassed the picture on the easel, her fingers twitching at the lace of her dress. Gradually then her steps became firmer and more deliberate. The sound of a rippling laugh came from the other room. She stopped suddenly in her restless pacing of the floor. She looked at the portrait on the easel, and after a short space, she too laughed. “It is a just punishment!” she said. “He loves her and she loves another--she confessed it to me. He will be punished, and no one will pity him.” Then Clare reappeared in the arch from which the curtain had been drawn, and Claude followed her. Agnes glanced first at the girl, then at the man. She looked toward Sir Percival and smiled. CHAPTER XXIV.