Reed Raymond, pallid and alarmed, looked on in silence, like the rest, dreading, like Annette, what might happen next. The silence was so profound and embarrassing that Mrs. Hill-Dixon had to come to the rescue with a tinkling little society laugh, as she exclaimed: “Well, you have certainly given our friends a great surprise!” Mrs. Fleming gasped, and recovered herself, twittering sweetly: “Lord Werter, I saw through your flimsy disguise last night, and was only waiting for you to declare your identity and renew old friendships.” He laughed absently, without answering, and she saw that he was stealing a furtive glance at Daisie, who still did not look up from the little hands she seemed to be inspecting beneath her lowered lashes. She appeared indeed cold and indifferent. But it was not hard to guess that she was putting the sternest restraints on herself, fighting down her rebel heart, lest she should cry out before them all that she had been tricked and deceived, torn asunder from the love of her life, and the cruel truth was breaking her tender heart. Again Mrs. Hill-Dixon, seeing and wondering at the strange pallor on every face, came to the rescue, rising, with a rustle of silks and laces, and saying: “Indeed, Dallas; we must be saying good-by, for I am due at a reception within ten minutes.” Every one rose with suppressed sighs of relief to see them go, and then Lord Werter said quietly: “Give me five minutes of your time, Cousin Elinor, to shake hands with my friends, for I am leaving to-morrow for California, and shall not see them again before my return to Europe.” It was a promise to go out of their lives forever, and all understood it so; but did they guess that he touched hands with all just for the privilege of holding one minute in his own those cold fingers of his dear lost love, sweet Daisie? If they did, who could grudge him that small boon, when he had been cheated of so much? She was the last one to whom he spoke, and his farewell words to her were brief as to the rest. Only the lingering handclasp, close and meaning, told to her own heart a story plain as words of a love that, though hopeless, would last forever, and their swift farewell glance had in it all the pathos of life’s despair. CHAPTER XXXIV. UNMASKED. Reed Raymond followed the departing guests to the door, anxious for a private word with his friend Lord Werter; and then Mrs. Fleming exclaimed jauntily: “Well, I must be going, too. Good-by, all!” She was anxious to get away, for she felt frightened of Daisie, somehow, though undreaming that the girl had learned the secret of her treachery. But, to her alarm and surprise, Daisie stretched out an imperative hand, saying sternly: “Wait, Lutie. There is something I must say to you and Royall.” Annette turned to the door, saying nervously: “I will go upstairs.”