Standing before Kathleen, she touched her on the shoulder, and when Kathleen shrunk back and lifted her white face in piteous fear and entreaty, the stranger almost started at its wonderful beauty. "Ralph Chainey is deceiving you," was the startling sentence that fell on Kathleen's ear. "Oh!" the girl exclaimed in bewilderment; but the blonde beauty went on: "He has promised to marry you, but he does not mean it, you poor, pretty child. It is only a plot to betray you." "You speak falsely," Kathleen managed to stammer in a choking voice, her dark eyes flashing indignantly. "You do not want to believe it, I know, but I can prove to you that I speak the truth. Ralph Chainey is a married man. _I am his wife!_" Kathleen grew as pale as she had been in her coffin that terrible night; her dark eyes stared as if fascinated into the pretty painted face of the woman. She could not speak; her head seemed to be going round and round; her poor heart throbbed as if it would break. "Perhaps you have heard that actors are wicked people," continued the pretty stranger. "It is true of the whole class, and most especially of this Ralph Chainey. He is always seeking for a new love, and leaving some other woman to break her heart for love of him. Although I am his wife, he tired of me months ago, and left me to starve or die of a broken heart, he cared not which, so that he was well rid of me. My kind parents took me home, and since then I have watched his career in amazement and despair. Many and many a fair and innocent young girl I have saved from his clutches." "Oh, Heaven! must I believe this?" came in a low, sobbing under-tone from Kathleen's pale lips. "You are the youngest and fairest of them all and it would break my heart to see you fall into Ralph Chainey's power," continued the blonde, anxiously. "Be warned in time, my poor girl. Fly from this spot and go home to your friends." "I have no friends in this city, and my home is in far-off Boston," sobbed Kathleen, clasping her little hands in despair. "Then come home with me, and stay all night, and you can go on to Boston to-morrow morning early," was the quick reply. She waited for an answer, but none came. Kathleen's head had drooped on her breast. A fatal unconsciousness had stolen over her, and the hour of her enemy's triumph was at hand. The blonde beauty laughed low and maliciously, as she realized how deeply her words had struck their poisoned arrows into the young girl's heart. Coolly signaling a stranger who had hurriedly entered the almost deserted waiting-room, she said: "My friend has fainted from grief at receiving a telegram containing news of the death of her lover. Will you assist me to carry her out to my carriage before she revives? I know she will go into hysterics as soon as she recovers, and that would be so embarrassing in this public place."