“Well, she was a tobacco-factory girl, and worked at Arnell & Grey’s. Her name was Pansy Laurens--similarity in names, as well as faces, you see. Your name is Pansy, too, isn’t it? She was a low, designing creature, and, by her boldness, caused a rupture between my betrothed and myself, over which he grieves to this day.” CHAPTER XIX. A POISONED LIFE. Bravely as Pansy carried off everything, she began to fear that her life with Juliette Ives would never be one of friendship or peace, for the girl seemed to bristle at all points with poisoned arrows for her uncle’s wife. Not that Juliette was outwardly repellent. She had false, sweet smiles in plenty for Pansy; but she had also the sharpest claws beneath her silky fur. She lost no opportunity of wounding, when she could do so with impunity. A week passed away, and several of the best families in the city had called upon Colonel Falconer and his wife. None saw her but to praise her wonderful beauty and her graceful ease of manner; although they had gathered from Juliette that her origin was obscure, they decided that she must certainly have been used to good society, and they made due allowance when Juliette sneered for her disappointment in losing her uncle’s money. But the supreme trial of all had not fallen on her yet. Norman Wylde had not called, although Juliette had given several intimations that he would do so soon. Sometimes Pansy resolved that she would not see him, but then that course would be sure to excite remark. The meeting must take place some time, and she made up her mind at last that she would face it without a falter. “I despise him, but I will treat him with the same courtesy that I do others, that none may suspect what lies hidden beneath the surface,” she thought. She had been home something more than a week when Colonel Falconer told her one morning, with a tender caress, that he should have to leave her to her own devices, or to Juliette’s society, all day, as he would have to spend some hours with his lawyers, settling up his sister’s affairs. “I have a new book. I will interest myself in that,” she replied, returning his kiss in her gentle, affectionate way. He went away, and, lest Juliette should think her unsociable, she took her book into the parlor. It was a warm day, and she wore a lovely morning dress, all white embroidery and lace, with fluttering loops of blue ribbons. Her lovely dark hair was drawn into a loose coil on top of her head, and some curling locks strayed prettily over her white forehead. “How pretty you are in that white wrapper, Mrs. Falconer. I do not see how such a plain old fellow as my uncle ever induced a beautiful young girl like you to marry him. But, then, these rich old fellows can marry any one they choose!” exclaimed Juliette. “I do not consider Colonel Falconer old,” Pansy answered resentfully, but further words were prevented by the loud ringing of the doorbell.