"Raleigh!" she said, in tones of amazement and consternation.
"Dolores!" said Brooke, in a deep, hollow voice.
Brooke was ghastly; but this may have been the effect of the recent shock. As for Dolores, every trace of color fled from her face, and she was as white as marble.
Talbot heard this, and saw it. These words, these familiar names, smote her to the heart. She recollected the story which Brooke had told her. She remembered the name of that Cuban maid. It was this—it was "Dolores!" Was this she?
She looked around in despair.
At that moment, as her despairing eyes wandered around, they fell full upon the face of Harry; for Harry and Katie on descending the stairs had, on this instant, reached the spot.
Harry saw her again.
The priest's dress was removed. She stood in her own garb—her very self—Talbot! with all her noble face revealed, and all her exquisite grace of feature and of form.
"Sydney!" said he.
"Harry!" said Talbot.