"It was cruel of you to tell them that. Why need you have done it?" he exclaimed; and Jewel burst into tears, sobbing out that she had been so wretched, and wanted some one to sympathize with her so much, that she could not help speaking. He waited till she had done sobbing, then asked: "And the people in Virginia--your old home. You let them know the truth at least. You promised me you would as soon as the Reverend Mr. Archer came home from Europe." "But he never came home," Jewel answered. And he told himself that he was mistaken in fancying that there was a ring of malicious triumph in her voice. Surely she would be only too glad to have the honor of her sister vindicated, and he echoed, dismally: "Never came home!" "No; he died abroad," said Jewel, and, after waiting a few moments, she added: "What was the use of speaking then? No one would have believed me. Besides, very few knew anything about poor Flower's trouble at the time, and to bring it up again would have made a fresh scandal, so I thought it best not to speak." And against his better judgment she persuaded Laurie Meredith to keep the secret of the past. CHAPTER XXV. Several months after Laurie Meredith's return to Boston, the following notice appeared in the society column of a daily paper: "It is rumored that the handsome and fascinating Laurie Meredith will soon lead to the altar the beautiful belle, Miss Jewel Fielding, and society is on the _qui vive_ for the magnificent festivities that will attend this brilliant social event." Directly beneath this interesting announcement was this paragraph: "Lord and Lady Ivon, of Cornwall, England, with great-granddaughter, Miss Azalia Brooke, are the guests of our esteemed townsman, Raynold Clinton. The latter was handsomely entertained at Lord Ivon's London residence when he went abroad last year, and he now has the opportunity of reciprocating the hospitalities thus received. The venerable noble and his gracious lady are making the tour of the United States for the first time, and will spend several weeks here, during which they will have an opportunity of meeting some of the cultured society of Boston. Of the marvelous blonde beauty of their great-granddaughter, Miss Brooke, wonderful stories are told, and our belles will have to look to their laurels." In the elegant and luxurious library of the Clinton mansion the young lady referred to as Lord Ivon's great-granddaughter was standing alone at a window, looking out, with wistful, azure eyes, at the whirling flakes of snow that filled the air, for it had been snowing since early morn, and the earth was already covered in the short space of three hours with a deep, glistening, white carpet. None of the reports regarding Azalia Brooke's beauty were in the least exaggerated, for she was, indeed, "Perfectly beautiful, faultily faultless."