“I think, sir, that if you would come at once with me to Mrs. Falconer she would explain everything to your satisfaction.” “Very well, then, I will do so, for I am very much puzzled over all this. Will you come with me in my carriage, Mr. Laurens?” “I shall be glad of a seat with you, sir, as it will enable us to reach Mrs. Falconer sooner.” “Come, then!” And they entered the carriage, where they found Phebe in a fever of curiosity. “Would it be advisable to take my wife’s maid?” the colonel then asked; and Willie, remembering that Pansy would need a nurse, and that his mother would have her hands full in caring for Alice, replied in the affirmative. He then gave the address to the driver, and in a very short time they arrived at their destination. “Perhaps you had better leave the maid in the carriage,” suggested Willie, and Colonel Falconer readily acquiesced, thinking that Pansy would be ready to accompany him home in a few minutes. During the drive to Mr. Finley’s house he had come to the conclusion that Pansy’s warm sympathies had been enlisted by some charitable object for which she wished to secure his pity and aid. For this laudable purpose she had doubtless delayed starting on her trip, thinking that to-morrow would do as well. “But Juliette and the Wyldes will have already gone,” he thought. “No matter; Mrs. Wylde can chaperon Juliette until Pansy goes.” But his complacent feelings were soon dissipated, for, as they went upstairs, Willie Laurens said reluctantly: “Colonel Falconer, your wife was seized with a sudden sickness an hour ago, and you must not be surprised or frightened if you find her still in bed.” Then he threw open Pansy’s door. CHAPTER XXXII. THE REVELATION. Colonel Falconer was so shocked and startled by Willie Laurens’ words that he staggered rather than walked across the threshold of the room where Pansy was lying, with close-shut eyes, among the white pillows of the bed, carefully watched by Nora Laurens, who now, at a sign from her brother, arose and left the room. Colonel Falconer found himself alone with Pansy, and, at the closing of the door, she opened wide those wondrous eyes of violet blue, and looked mournfully up into his face. Oh, the pain, the grief, the despair of that glance! It went straight to the man’s loving heart, and he fell on his knees with a groan, and pressed his lips to her white brow in passionate love. She lay still and sorrowful, while fond words of love poured from his lips, and kisses rained on her fair face. She said to herself that if he repudiated her and cast her off after he had heard her sad confession, she would have the memory of these caresses to comfort her when her noble husband was lost to her forever. By and by he lifted his head, and said reproachfully: “You should not have gone out, my darling, if you were not feeling well. You know you have not been strong for some time.” She knew that she must speak now, and so she answered faintly: