"I must go away from here," she muttered. "If I am going to die, let it be out in the grounds, with my face pressed close to the cold earth, that is not more cold to me than the false heart of the man to whom I have given my love beyond recall."
Like one whose sight had suddenly grown dim, Bernardine groped her way from the magnificent boudoir out into the corridor, her one thought being to reach her own apartment, secure her bonnet and cloak, and get out of the house. She had scarcely reached the first turn in the corridor, ere she came face to face with a woman robed in costly satin, and all ablaze with diamonds, who was standing quite still and looking about her in puzzled wonder.
"I—I beg your pardon, miss," said the stranger, addressing Bernardine. "I am a bit turned around in this labyrinth of corridors."
What was there in that voice that caused Bernardine to forget her own sorrows for an instant, and with a gasp peer into the face looking up into her own?
The effect of Bernardine's presence, as the girl turned her head and the light of the hanging-lamp fell full upon it, was quite as electrifying to the strange lady.
"Bernardine Moore!" she gasped in a high, shrill voice that was almost hysterical. "Do my eyes deceive me, or is this some strange coincidence, some chance resemblance, or are you Bernardine Moore, whom I have searched the whole earth over to find?"
At the first word that fell from her excited lips, Bernardine recognized Miss Rogers.
"Yes," she answered, mechanically, "I am Bernardine Moore, and you are Miss Rogers. But—but how came you here, and in such fine dress and magnificent jewels? You, whom I knew to be as poor as ourselves, when you shared the humble tenement home with my father and me!"
Miss Rogers laughed very softly.
"I can well understand your bewilderment over such a Cinderella-like mystery. The solution of it is very plain, however. But before I answer your question, my dear Bernardine, I must ask what you are doing beneath this roof?"