The pitiless voice went on, cruelly:
"I am sure that Miss Brooke there would not be disobedient or deceitful to her guardians; but, alas, my sister Flower was very different in spite of her angelic expression. She had a lover of whom mamma disapproved so strongly that she forbid Flower ever to speak to him. But, willful child that she was, Flower would not listen. She met her lover in secret until he wearied of his plaything and deserted her to the fate she had brought upon herself. When mamma found out the truth, and realized that disgrace had come to the proud name of Fielding, she went mad and had to be removed to an insane asylum. Flower ran away, and many believed that she drowned herself. I always hoped that she had, for I preferred death for my beautiful, willful young sister rather than that she should have followed her false-hearted lover into the world."
She paused, and every one in the room drew a long breath, then waited for her further speech.
She gave a little laugh that jarred painfully on every heart.
"Is it any wonder that I fainted on beholding Miss Brooke?" she continued, thrillingly. "I had hoped, even prayed, that my erring sister was dead, and yet she seemed, all in a minute, to start up before me, living and smiling as in the happy days ere she went astray. Of course, I knew that it was nothing but a resemblance, yet it startled, unnerved me—"
The dark eyes were looking with strange intentness into the white face over yonder. They saw Azalia's white lips part, then close without a sound.
Then—
"Miss Fielding, you have told your story with such realism that the horror of it seems to weigh me down," said Lady Ivon. "I am sure we all sympathize with you in your trouble over your erring sister. No wonder the sight of Azalia moves you so much. I could wish she did not bear any resemblance to your unfortunate relative."
Jewel sneered contemptuously into her face.
"You are proud. You would not fancy such a disgrace in the family," she said.