"I received a cablegram from my father to-day, and he announces that the claimant has gained the suit, while he and I have lost wealth and title, and remain only loyal British subjects." Murmurs of surprise and sympathy arose all around him, but he looked only at Ethel's pale, startled face and in a moment he said to her lightly but with underlying earnestness: "You have only three days left, Ethel, in which to decide whether it was the man or the title you wished to marry." She only smiled in reply. CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE SHIP THAT NEVER RETURNED. "If he had known that when her hand lay still, Pulseless, so near his own, It was because pain's bitter, bitter chill Changed her to very stone. "If he had known that she had borne so much For sake of the sweet past, That mere despair said, 'This cold look and tone Must be the cruel last.'" --FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT. The news of Lord Chester's loss of title and wealth spread very quickly, and in the shallow circles of society, where money and position rate higher than brains and worth, much commiseration was felt for brilliant Ethel Winans, who had hoped so soon to be Lady Chester. There were sneers, too, for of course envious people were delighted at Ethel's disappointment. But the cards for the marriage were out, the arrangements made for a grand reception, after which the bridal pair were to leave for Europe. The plans remained unchanged still, and nobody was to be disappointed in the grand show to which they looked forward with such eager interest. The Winans family monopolized public interest now, for in addition to Ethel's affair there was Earle's elopement with that lovely fairy, Ladybird Conway. Some pretty society belles were bitterly disappointed over his marriage, as well as Aura Stanley, but they had to smile and bear it. And when they saw the lovely bride they could not blame him for his choice. She was the most piquant little beauty that ever wiled a man's heart away. But a cruel pang came to the young bride's heart on the very day after her marriage, for the uncertainty that hung like a dark cloud over her father's fate became at last absolute conviction of his death. On that day there came to Mrs. Winans from the captain of a newly arrived steamer in New York a letter and a package. The package contained a thick glass bottle and within it was a closely written letter addressed to Senator Winans and his wife. The sea-captain's letter informed Mrs. Winans that the bottle had been picked up at sea during his voyage. It had been securely sealed and on opening, was found to contain a letter from the missing Mamaroneck, and gave tidings of her almost certain fate. With a shaking hand Mrs. Winans held the letter whose writing was so familiar, and read above Bruce Conway's signature the words he had penned to his dearest friends on earth, as he fondly called them.