The object for which he was seeking was at the back of the desk, under all the papers. He found it by touch: a morocco case containing a cabinet photograph. Mildred stood up beside him, with one hand on his shoulder as he searched.

He handed her the case without a word. She opened it in silence and looked at the portrait within. A small, delicately-featured face, with large dark eyes—eyes almost too large for the face—a slender throat, thin sloping shoulders—eyes that looked out of the picture with a strange intensity—a curious alertness in the countenance, as of a woman made up of nerves and emotions, a nature wanting the element of repose.

Mildred stared at the picture three or four seconds, and then with a choking sound like a strangled sob fell unconscious at her husband’s feet.

END OF VOL. I.

Transcriber’s Notes