The woman known as Mrs. Mona May had lost no time in adapting herself to circumstances. That she had found her way on to the terrace for no good purpose was known to three people, although in all probability she imagined that Tchigorsky alone was acquainted with her designs.

He had laid a trap for her and to a certain extent he had forced her hand. But she was too brilliant and unscrupulous a woman not to be able to turn misfortune to her own advantage. And was she not here——here a guest among those who for some reason she hated from her soul?

Why, it matters not for the present. From Mrs. May's point of view Tchigorsky alone knew, and Tchigorsky was going away ere long. But whether Tchigorsky remained or not, Mrs. Mona May could defy him to prove that she was in any way connected with the misfortunes of the Ravenspurs.

Once the man she had most reason to dread had withdrawn to the billiard room, the adventuress lost no time in ingratiating herself with her involuntary hosts.

This was the woman with whom Geoffrey had dined. Vera regarded her curiously. She was very beautiful and fascinating. She had a manner that attracted. Her conversation was bright and interesting.

"You must not mind me," she said to Vera. "And you must not grudge me a little of your lover's company."

Vera blushed divinely.

"How did you guess that?" she asked.

"Oh, there are signs, my dear. I have had my own romance and I know. But women of my age can never really rival young girls like yourself. We lack the one great charm."

"I should not have thought so," said Vera.

Mrs. May patted the girl playfully on the cheek.

"That is a very pretty compliment," she replied. "But it does not alter facts. A woman of forty may be fascinating. She has the brilliant parts. But, alas! it is only once that she can possess youth."

The speaker turned away with a gentle sigh and began to discuss the art treasures in the drawing room with Mrs. Gordon. All the time Marion had held coldly aloof from the stranger.

"You are not like yourself to-night," Vera murmured.

Marion's dark eyes were lifted. There were purple rings under those eyes and a hunted expression on the white face. It was the face of one who has seen a terror that it is impossible to forget.

"Am I not?" she said indifferently. "Perhaps so."

"Don't you like that woman?" Vera asked.

"Frankly, I don't," Marion admitted. "But there are reasons. Strange that you don't recognize the likeness between us. Geoffrey did at once."

Vera started. Strange, indeed, that she had not noticed it before. And, now that Marion had spoken the likeness was surprising. Making allowance for the disparity of years, the two faces were the same.

"Is there another mystery?" Vera asked.

Marion smiled like her old self.

"Indeed there is," she confessed. "But it is a poor, vulgar little thing beside your family mystery. Mrs. May is a connection of mine. As a matter of fact, she is closely related to my mother's family. She is not a good woman, and I hope you will see as little of her as possible."

"But I suppose she came to see you?"

"Oh! dear no. She would never have done that. She knows perfectly well that I should strongly oppose her coming here. Beyond question, her taking up her residence for the benefit of her health in this village was simply a coincidence."

Vera looked closely at the visitor.

"Mrs. May doesn't look like an invalid," she said.

"She doesn't. It is her heart. Any sudden excitement might be fatal to her. Is it not strange that I have the seeds of the same complaint?"

"You, Marion? I never heard that before. And you are here!"

"Oh, yes, I am here. A bad place for heart troubles, you would say. But I am young and strong. I merely made the remark—perhaps it would have been better had I not said anything about it."

Mrs. May was talking. She protested gently against the trouble she was causing. Indeed, there was no reason why she should not have gone back to her farm. Still, her kind friends were so very pressing she would stay the night. But she must be up and away early in the morning. She had pressing business, tiresome law business, to see to in York.

"And now I am not going to keep you up any longer," she said with a brilliant smile. "Who will help me upstairs? Will you, dear?"

She had risen to her feet and approached Marion. The girl seemed to shrink back; it looked as if she was being dragged into some painful undertaking. Then the natural sweetness of her disposition conquered her dislike.

"If you think I can manage it," she said.

Mrs. May hobbled upstairs, leaning on Marion's shoulder, chatting gaily. The latter helped her into the room set apart for the involuntary guest and at a sign closed the door. All her smiles and pretty feminine blandishments vanished; her eyes were dark and hard; her manner was cold and stinging.

"You fool," hissed Mrs. May. "This is a nice thing you have done!"

Marion smiled wearily. She seemed to have suddenly fallen under the mantle of years. She dropped into a chair like somebody old and weary.

"What have I done?" she asked.

"Fallen in love with Geoffrey Ravenspur."

The words came like a blow. Marion staggered under them.

"I deny it," she said weakly. "It is false."

"It is true, you idiot. You are blushing like a rose. And to-night, when that fiend Tchigorsky played that fool's trick upon us you had no eyes for any one but Geoffrey. Frightened as I was, I could see that. Your looks betrayed you. What are you going to do about it?"

Marion shook her head sadly. Never had any one at Ravenspur ever seen her look so forlorn and dejected as she did at this moment.

"I don't know," she said hopelessly. "I know what I ought to do. I ought to kill you and throw myself into the sea afterwards. Why should I go on leading my present life? Why should I shield you? What are you? What are you to me?"

"You dare ask me that question?"

"Oh! I dare anything in my present mood. Still, I am in your power. You have only to say the word and it is done."

"Then why do you take every means of thwarting me?"

Marion rose and crossed over to the door. Her eyes were shining. There was a certain restless motion of her hands.

"Take care," she whispered. "Don't drive me too far. Oh, if I could only live the last four years of my life over again!"