"My love," she said, "the _prima donna_ reminds me of some one I have seen before; but I cannot exactly recollect where." "Really?" said Violet, with an air of languid interest, but she fluttered her fan nervously and did not try to enlighten the lady. But Walter Earle had heard the whisper, too. He spoke impulsively: "Mrs. Valchester, I will tell you of whom she reminds you. She is like--Miss Meredith." "Oh, yes--yes," Mrs. Valchester assented, quickly, "but it cannot be that--that----" she stopped and looked at Walter, startled out of her usual quiet self-possession. Walter answered, readily: "The resemblance struck us all, Mrs. Valchester. I, for one, believe that it is little Lina herself. She had a wonderful voice." "I thought--thought every one believed that she was dead, or that Gerald Huntington had carried her off again," stammered the lady. "Every one must have been mistaken," said Walter. "I think there can scarcely be a doubt that Madame Dolores is only the stage name of Jaquelina Meredith." "Ronald, what do you think?" the lady asked, looking up half timidly into the face of her son. He had stood by her chair, pale and silent as a statue, hearing every word but taking no part in the conversation. He looked down at her now and answered in a low, quiet voice: "It is Lina herself." "Are you sure?" cried Walter. "I am quite sure," Ronald answered. Then he saw that they were all looking at him inquiringly, and nerved himself to explain. "I called on Dolores to-day," he said, "and she frankly admitted her identity." He did not notice the white anguish that came over Violet's face. He was startled by the gladness that shone in her brother's eyes. It was a revelation to him. But the next moment he heard the sound of a fall. They all turned and saw that Violet had slipped out of her chair and lay on the floor with closed eyelids and a deathly face. "Violet has fainted," cried Mrs. Valchester. She had fainted, and when she regained consciousness, it was only to bury her face on Walter's breast, and whisper sadly: "Take me away." He carried her home, and when they were gone, Mrs. Valchester looked at her son. "Ronald, do you know what Violet's fainting meant? she asked, gravely. "It was too warm, I think," said the unconscious poet. "Oh, how blind you are, Ronald!" exclaimed his mother. CHAPTER XXXI. The next day while Madam Dolores sat alone in her beautiful parlor, a card was brought to her. She read upon it the name of Walter Earle. "I am so glad to meet you once more," he said, as she rose to receive him. "Valchester told me he had called upon you yesterday and I could not resist coming to-day." The sensitive color Walter remembered so well, rose into Jaquelina's clear cheek.