Mr. Revington duly announced his betrothal to the inhabitants of the villa. Congratulations followed of course, but he could not flatter himself that there was any heart in them.

Mr. Stuart was openly surprised and inwardly disgusted.

"To think that a girl of such beauty and soul as Irene should stoop to mate with that weak, guitar-playing dandy," he said to himself.

Brown and Jones were envious of Revington's good luck. The ladies, with the exception of Mrs. Leslie, thought it quite too good a match for the mysterious Miss Berlin.

"My dear," said Mrs. Leslie, the first time she could draw Irene aside, "I do not know how to congratulate you. You have surprised me too much. I never dreamed that you were in love with Julius Revington."

They were alone on the wide balcony, and the opaline hues of sunset sparkled on the blue horizon. Irene looked very pale and grave in the brilliant light. She gazed sadly at her friend.

"Does it follow that I am in love with him because I have promised to be his wife?" she asked, almost bitterly.

Mrs. Leslie started and gazed keenly at the fair young face.

"It should follow," she said. "No girl should marry a man with whom she is not in love. It is positively sinful to do so. And, my dear child, if you are marrying him for money you are sadly mis——" she paused, for a flood of crimson had drifted into Irene's face.

"Mrs. Leslie, I am quite aware that Mr. Revington's income is extremely small," she said, with girlish dignity.

"Oh, then, it is for love, after all," said the lady, relieved. "Well, that is the best, if you are going to marry him. But I must say it is a great surprise to me. You seemed to belong to me so utterly I never thought of a lover carrying you off."

Her sigh of genuine regret pierced Irene's tender heart.

She longed to throw her arms around the sweet lady's neck and tell her all her sad story—to disclaim all interest and love in the wretch who exacted so costly a price for her mother's happiness; but a feeling of pride held her back.

"Not now, while the shadow of the old disgrace hangs over me," she said to herself. "I could not bear for her to pity me. Only in the hour of my triumph will I tell her my strange story and ask her to rejoice with me."

Lilia came out on the balcony and Mrs. Leslie said no more. The child was exquisitely dressed, as usual, in a rich white robe, with a rose-colored sash. She looked quite pretty with her dark, shining hair falling over her shoulders, her large black eyes beaming with the fires of disease, and a deceptive glow of color on her cheeks.

She came and stood by Irene's side, and with one of her rare impulses of kindness laid her light, fragile hand on her shoulder.

"They tell me you are going to marry my cousin Julius," she said, abruptly.

"Yes," Irene answered, with a smothered sigh.

Mrs. Leslie looked at the two young girls, admiring their different types of beauty. Irene's blonde loveliness was matchless; the darker type of Lilia challenged admiration. Each set off the other, like night and morning.

But as Mrs. Leslie gazed she suddenly smothered a cry upon her lips—a cry of amazement!

Something had flashed over her suddenly and without warning as she watched the two beautiful faces side by side.

It was a subtle, startling, vivid resemblance between the two—the blue-eyed blonde, the dark-eyed brunette.

As she gazed, the wonderful, startling resemblance grew and grew upon her consciousness. Though one was fair and the other dark there was a subtle, haunting likeness in their features strong enough to have existed between sisters.

"What does it mean?" the lady asked herself, wonderingly. "Is it a mere chance likeness?"

While she gazed as if fascinated, Mr. Stuart stepped out upon the balcony. His dark face lighted with pleasure as he noted Lilia's affectionate attitude toward Irene. He stepped softly to his daughter's side and gazed at the two fair girls with a gratified smile upon his lips.

And again Mrs. Leslie suppressed a little cry of wonder.

The subtle likeness between Irene and Lilia was not stronger than that which existed between Irene and Mr. Stuart. They might have passed for father and daughter.

He looked up and arrested her gaze fixed upon his face in wonder and perplexity. He smiled.

"On what weighty subject are you musing so deeply, Mrs. Leslie?" he inquired.

"If you will come and walk with me, I will tell you," she replied, lightly.

"Nothing would give me more pleasure," he answered gallantly.