Suddenly the saloon door opened softly. Mr. Stuart had eluded Lilia and returned.
He came to her side and sat down again. His dark face was strangely pale still. There was a troubled look in his large, dark eyes.
"You must have thought my agitation strange just now, Irene," he said.
"Yes," she answered, gravely.
"And—you guessed the reason?" he inquired, slowly, fixing a keen glance on her face.
She raised her beautiful, troubled blue eyes steadily to his.
"You recognized the pictures in my locket," she replied, touching it with her trembling hand.
"My God, yes!" he answered hoarsely. "Irene, child, for the love of Heaven, tell me what this man and woman are to you."
She had no answer for him. In her own heart she was saying, dumbly:
"I cannot tell him. It is my mother's secret. She guarded it for sixteen years, and I must not betray her."