An expression of deep annoyance clouded Mr. Stuart's handsome face.
"Pooh, I did not faint," he said, sharply. "A mere dizziness overcame me. Don't let your fancies run away with your reason, Lilia."
He rose as he spoke, and without a glance at Irene or the open locket that still swung at her throat, hastily quitted the room. Lilia, forgetting her guest, followed after him.
Irene thus left alone, fell into a startled revery.
She had not been deceived like Lilia by Mr. Stuart's short assertion of dizziness. She knew that he had actually fainted, and she believed that the bare sight of her mother's face in the locket had been the cause of his agitation.
"He recognized the face, and it had power to stay the very pulses of his life for a moment," she said to herself.
A terrible suspicion darted into her young mind, chilling the blood in her veins, and driving it coldly back upon her heart.
"Can this man be my father, my mother's base betrayer?" she thought.
She did not like to think so. Her heart had gone out strangely to this man, the savior of her young life. She liked to think that he was noble, good and brave. For the villain who had betrayed her trusting young mother she had nothing in her heart but hatred, and a burning desire for revenge.