There was a minute's dead pause. Irene was singing again. In the stillness her full, sweet voice floated out to them softly: "Go! be sure of my love--by that treason forgiven, Of my prayers, by the blessings they win thee from Heaven; Of my griefs (guess the length of the sword by the sheath's) By the silence of life more pathetic than death's! Go, be clear of that day!" Mrs. Leslie looked at the man's handsome face. It was grave and troubled in the moonlight. "Is it not strange?" she said. "She would never sing for us until to-night. We did not suspect that she had such a soulful voice. But she was betrothed to Mr. Revington to-day. Perhaps the happiness of her soul finds natural vent in song." She saw him wince as if she had touched a secret wound. He looked away from her at the lovely Italian landscape bathed in the pearly radiance of the moonlight. When he spoke again he did not look at her. "Mrs. Leslie. I am curious to hear how your _protege_ came to be in the water?" "She threw herself in, Mr. Kenmore." "No," he cried, with a shudder. "It is true," she replied. "She says she had lost her only friend and did not wish to live." "Who was that friend?" he asked. "She declined to say. She declined to speak of her past. She had broken loose from all its ties, and never wished to unite them again. She shrouded herself in mystery, claiming nothing from the life she had left except the sweet, simple name of Irene." "Yet you called her Berlin," he said. "Yes, but it was my own maiden name which I gave her because she declared herself nameless," said Mrs. Leslie. "You were very kind." "Do you think so? I fell in love with the child, and adopted her as my _protege_. I am sure she has had a great sorrow in her life, but I am equally sure that she is pure and innocent as a little child." He looked at her, gratefully. "And the Stuarts?" he inquired, in a tone of veiled significance. "Mr. Stuart was as much fascinated by Irene as I was. He wished to adopt her as Lilia's sister, but his jealous wife would not permit him to do so." "And Revington is her lover?" "Yes, she accepted him to-day." "Is it a good match for her?" inquired Mr. Kenmore, dropping into a light, conventional, society tone. "Not in a worldly way," she replied. "Mr. Revington's fortune is very small, barely sufficient for his own luxurious needs. He is of good family, however, being cousin to Clarence Stuart. I cannot say I have any admiration for the man, and I am disappointed at Irene's choice." He made no comment on her words, but remained gazing thoughtfully at the beautiful starry arch of night. Mrs. Leslie thought that it was now her turn to receive confidence. "Now, I have told you all I know of my interesting _protege_, you must tell me about your friend whom she resembled so much that she frightened you to-night," she said, blandly. He started and looked at her, but before he could speak they were interrupted.