Ere Nita could speak old Meg's thin, rasping voice broke upon the hubbub of surprise, exclaiming: "Yes, it's Nita Farnham, ma'am, sure enough. She wasn't drowned at sea, in spite of the storm. My son saved her life, and brought her back to Pirate Beach to-night. I hope you're glad to see her back," and she pushed Nita into a chair near the door and retreated, leaving her charge alone among them. The eyes of the guests were upon the Courtneys, and no matter how they felt, it was incumbent on them to welcome Nita in a cordial manner. Nita got two cold little pecks on the cheek from mother and daughter, and some little murmurs of affection that she took at their true valuation. Introductions followed, but Nita was weary, and rose from her seat, saying faintly that she would go to her room. Some one came forward and offered his arm, and she shrank and trembled when she perceived that it was Donald Kayne. He bent and whispered, inaudibly, to the others: "Say nothing yet, I beseech you. I was mad to do what I did, but God only knows the suffering that drove me to desperation." In spite of herself Nita's heart was touched with pity. He had treated her infamously, yet somehow she could not hate him. Her tender heart always ached over the secret she could not betray to him, and her dreams were often haunted by the name "Pepita," that he had uttered in such a tragic tone. She raised her dark, reproachful eyes to his face, and whispered sadly: "You need not fear me." But she was trembling so that she could not touch his offered arm, and she looked appealingly at Mrs. Courtney. "I would like for Mrs. Hill to attend me to my room," she said gently. "My dear girl, the housekeeper has an evening out, but I will attend you myself," was the affectionate reply, and Mrs. Courtney, coming forward, led Nita up-stairs and unlocked the door of her room. "Mrs. Hill found it necessary to lock your room," she said. "That old woman you came with to-night has been prowling about here trying to steal something." She pushed open the windows and let in the cool air. Then she lighted a lamp, adding carelessly: "Everything is just as you left it, my dear. Although we believed you dead, it seemed best to trouble nothing until after your guardian's recovery." Nita had sunk down wearily upon a lounge, her dark head falling among the satin pillows, but at those words she rose up with a startled cry: "My--my--guardian!" Mrs. Courtney, settling herself cozily into an easy chair, replied blandly: "Oh, I forgot you went away with Dorian that day, and did not hear about Miser Farnham's terrible accident." "But, yes, I did, Mrs. Courtney, oh, yes. They told me on the yacht that night. Captain Van Hise told me--that my guardian had been killed on the elevated railroad," Nita cried eagerly, breathlessly.