Marie courtesied, apologized, and explained that a lady, a woman, had called to see Miss Fielding, and would not be denied. "What do you mean by a lady, a woman?" Jewel mimicked, impatiently; and the maid explained, in broken French, that the caller had a high-bred voice and air, but was dressed very shabbily, and had come on foot. "Her name?" Jewel demanded. But the shabby caller had given the maid no card. "Why did you not send her to Mrs. Wellings since she would not go away?" Mrs. Wellings had gone to her room with a headache, and desired no one to disturb her in the little nap with which she proposed to while away the dull afternoon. "Headache! too much wine at luncheon!" Jewel muttered, scornfully; and then, having nothing else to do, and being of a curious disposition, she said, lightly: "Go, and show your impertinent shabby lady up here, Marie, and I will find out what she wishes. A beggar, perhaps--insolent creature!" Marie withdrew, and Jewel threw herself into an attitude of studied grace, the better to impress the caller, whom she opined was some poor creature, a needle-woman desiring work, most probably. The door opened, and a slight, dark figure, very poorly dressed, indeed, followed Marie over the threshold and stood there hesitating. Jewel looked at her curiously, but a dark veil was drawn over the features of the unknown. "Well?" she interrogated, curtly and haughtily. "Send your maid away, please, Miss Fielding," said a low, imploring voice that made Jewel start in spite of her haughty self-command. She immediately motioned Marie away, and, rising quickly, turned the key in the lock after her exit. Then, with a swift tremor shaking her whole frame, she confronted the veiled figure. "Now," she said, sharply, and the veil was flung aside by an agitated hand, and Jewel and Flower, the long-parted half-sisters, the beautiful rivals, stood face to face! * * * * * Something like a groan of despair came from Jewel's blanched lips, and Flower said, bitterly: "You know me!" Jewel was not taken wholly by surprise. She had been looking for something like this for two years, never having quite believed her own story of Flower's suicide. She remained silent a moment, collecting her thoughts, then said, coldly: "I have believed you dead for two years, but the moment you spoke I knew your voice. I never heard a voice quite like yours. But where have you been so long, and what has brought you here to-night?" Flower, whose beautiful face was wan and ghastly white, answered, with sudden passion: "It matters not where I have been, since it is evident you were glad to believe me dead. But I will tell you why I am here, Jewel!" and she drew from beneath her long, black water-proof a worn newspaper, and held it out to Jewel. "You have read this paragraph, of course?" she said. "Tell me what it means, or I shall go mad!"