“She ran away from Cecil four years ago. Every one thought she went to you,” Mrs. Laurens faltered, her heart beating fast with excitement. He sprang up again, startled, incredulous. “Why should she leave her husband; why should she come to me, madame?” he demanded. Mrs. Laurens looked at him in a dazed way and muttered, “Was she not your divorced wife?” “No, a thousand times, no! She was my sweet little friend--no more. My God, what subtle treachery am I about to unearth?” exclaimed John Keith wildly. Mrs. Laurens sat down and put her hand to her head. “You are deceiving me,” she muttered. “Madame, I am not,” he answered coldly. “But I begin to scent treachery. Look at this child. She is mine by a heartless wife who divorced herself from me that she might inherit an old woman’s money. The child, deserted by her heartless mother, was left with an aunt, who, in dying, left the child to me. I came here to ask my kind friend, Molly, to keep the child for me until I could make some arrangements. Go, madame, bring Cecil Laurens here! Let me hear his story!” She rose up from her chair, white and trembling. “Wait then,” she said in broken tones. “I must tell him first all that you have told me, or else he would murder you at sight!” CHAPTER XLIII. She went with uncertain footsteps along the hall to the library, and left him alone. The little child, seeing him fall into a dejected attitude, slipped away and entered the back parlor, which was curtained from the front one by falling velvet curtains. She found a picture-book and sat down upon the floor to turn the leaves, without noting the presence of an old lady in gray silk, sitting quietly with folded hands in a large arm-chair. The old lady was Mrs. Barry, who was spending the day at Maple Shade. She had been sitting in the front parlor with Mrs. Laurens, and they had been talking of the subject that was nearest to both their hearts, the desired union between Cecil and Louise. When Mrs. Laurens left her to go and sound Cecil on that important theme she slipped into the back parlor, and sat down to doze a little in the large arm-chair. The sound of voices in the next room roused her, and sitting there quietly, she heard every word that passed. When the pretty child came in, Mrs. Barry stared at her in angry amaze. The little beauty, with her yellowish hazel eyes and falling yellow curls, was a miniature edition of Louise Barry. “What does it mean?” the old lady asked herself, nervously. She sat still, watching the little one with fascinated eyes, unheeding the lapse of time, until she was roused again by voices in the next room. Mrs. Laurens had brought Cecil in, after first telling him all that John Keith had explained to her; and after the lapse of five years, the two men were face to face again. Mutual explanations ensued, and the treachery of Louise Barry was fully unveiled at last.