"Oh, I see! You thought that I was dead, and you have been grieving for me. Well, I will explain: I ran away from my respected papa because he had selected for me a husband not at all to my taste. Not desiring to return immediately, I seized an opportunity that came in my way, and bestowed my name upon a poor girl who died in the hospital, thus making sure that my anxious friends would abandon all search for me. However, I have thought better of my decision, and so I return to my own home to take my position under the chaperonage of my pretty step-mamma, as the Heiress of Oakley!"
These last words opened the eyes of Cora to the new "situation." Springing to her feet, she forgot for the moment all her weakness, and cried, wrathfully: "You cannot come here with such a trumped-up story! Madeline Payne is dead and buried. You are a base impostor!"
Madeline turned tranquilly towards the spinster. "Aunt Ellen, am I an impostor?"
"No," said Ellen Arthur, sullenly; "you are Madeline Payne. Any one in the village could testify to that."
Madeline turned to Cora. "Step-mamma, I forgive you. It is hard to find the entailed estate of Oakley slipping out of your hands, no doubt, but this world is full of disappointments."
Cora's eyes sought Lucian. That gentleman, who had, outwardly at least, regained his composure, telegraphed her to be silent.
Miss Payne asked: "Which of these gentlemen is your brother, Mrs. Arthur?"
Lucian stepped forward with his usual grace, saying; "I am Mrs. Arthur's brother, Miss Payne. Pray, let me apologize for her discourteous reception of you; she has been very ill, and is nervous."
Madeline sank into a chair and surveyed him coolly, while she said: "It is not necessary to apologize for your sister, Mr.—"
"Davlin," supplied Miss Arthur.