Marie did not add that a bountiful golden bribe had bought her silence; but Jewel readily guessed it, knowing the French girl's cupidity. She tore the letter into a hundred fragments after she had impressed its contents on her furious brain, and for a few moments her wrath was something fearful--so near akin to madness that it recalled to her mind the terrible spells of her mother in those first days after she had discovered her rival's child to be blue-eyed Flower, whom she had always loved best in her secret heart, because of the two girls, she resembled her father most--the man whose memory Mrs. Fielding had alternately loved and hated. CHAPTER XLIV. Frightened at the thought of going mad, Jewel ceased her wild raving, and tried to look her fate fairly in the face. One of the first conclusions to which her mind leaped was that Azalia Brooke was no other than her half-sister, Flower. She had come to see her in disguise that night, pleading poverty, when in reality she had been the heiress of Lord Ivon and the toast of the city. Ah, and Jewel's hand clutched at the empty air in impotent passion, how she regretted that her work had failed her that afternoon, and that Marie had rescued her victim from death! It was well indeed for cunning Marie that she was out of reach of Miss Fielding's vengeance. But, Jewel asked herself, wonderingly, why had not Flower claimed her husband? She had certainly recognized him, and she knew that it was his father's death she had read in the paper that terrible night. Why then had Flower kept the secret of her identity, and even betrothed herself to another? Jewel's mind could furnish but one solution to that strange problem. Flower had been adopted in some mysterious manner by the old nobleman and his wife, and was ambitious of shining in the world. She doubted whether she had ever been really Laurie's wife, and did not wish for him to recognize her, fearing that it would ruin her brilliant prospects in life. She intended to let Laurie Meredith believe her dead, while in reality she would be alive, the wife of an earl, one of the most beautiful countesses in England. Jewel choked with anger at the thought of the despised Flower attaining such lofty heights, but even that was better than to reveal herself to Laurie Meredith. "Yes, far better, for I would rather have him than a king!" she thought, that stormy love of hers always rising superior to every other ambition. She decided that she would go to Washington, seek an interview with Flower, and tell her that she recognized her, but would keep her secret if she would return at once to England and marry Lord Clive. If she refused, and the beautiful face grew dark with passion at the thought, Jewel told herself, in a vindictive whisper, that her rival must be removed at all hazards from her path.