It was the cry of a breaking heart that cleft the midnight air. The actress staggered backward, tried to catch at a chair to save herself from falling, and then dropped heavily to the floor and laid there without a sign of life. Elsie came rushing in from the next room, frightened at the sound. "Oh, my poor mistress--you have killed her!" she cried. "It is nothing but a swoon--she will soon revive," was the contemptuous answer. But in her heart Sydney prayed, "Oh, that it might be death!" But the impious prayer was not answered thus. Elsie's energetic efforts soon restored her mistress to consciousness, and lying languidly on a silken divan, she turned her beautiful eyes back to Sydney's face. "You may retire again," Sydney said to the maid. "We have much still to say to each other." The maid was about to refuse, but an imperative command from her mistress caused her to retire at once. Then the two beautiful women looked at each other with ominous glances. "So you _are_ Queenie herself? I thought as much," exclaimed Sydney, in a hissing tone of hate. "Yes, I am Queenie," answered the actress, coolly. "I have come back from the grave, Sydney; but it seems that I have neither name nor place in the hearts that once were mine!" "No, and _never_ shall have!" exclaimed Sydney, passionately, to herself, but aloud she said, in a voice that she strove to render calm and controlled: "Will you tell me why you are here?" "I am here to claim my husband!" answered Queenie, promptly and firmly. If a look could have killed, Queenie Ernscliffe would have been stricken dead at her sister's feet. "You will have to prove a few things before you accomplish your purpose," she retorted. "I can prove all that is necessary," was the calm reply. "Can you justify yourself in the matter of that shameful hidden year in your life of which I shall surely inform Captain Ernscliffe?" asked Sydney, malevolently. "Sydney, forbear," exclaimed the actress, lifting her hand as if to ward off some cruel blow. "I have borne all that I can bear to-night! You must leave me now. Come and lunch with me to-morrow, and you shall hear the story of that missing year--you shall judge whether I can justify myself in the eyes of my husband." "Will you promise not to see him until after that?" asked Sydney, anxiously, as she turned to go. "Yes, I will promise," answered Queenie. CHAPTER XXIV. Sydney could not wait until the hour for luncheon next day. She was terribly afraid that Captain Ernscliffe might by some means secure a meeting with La Reine Blanche, and that the fatal truth might be revealed, to the utter destruction of the frail superstructure of her own happiness. He had not been back to the house since he had left her to return to the theater the night before, and the most dreadful fancies continually darted through her mind.