He looked again keenly at her face, and bending forward, again looked at the beautiful, pictured face of Elaine Brooke.
A shudder shook his form.
"You are strangely like her—strangely like," he said. "Child, I would give much to hear you say what this beautiful woman is to you."
Irene looked gravely at him, her young bosom shaken by a storm of suspicion.
"Confidence invites confidence," she said, harshly. "I will tell you what this woman is to me if you tell me what she once was to you."
[CHAPTER XVIII.]
Irene's stern, abrupt question produced a startling effect upon Mr. Stuart. His face grew ashy pale, even to his lips, and he gazed suspiciously, almost angrily, at the girl's grave face. Seeing only an earnest wonder mirrored in her clear, sweet eyes, he sprang abruptly from his seat, and without replying to her question began to pace rapidly up and down the room.
Her grave, troubled eyes followed him slowly up and down, while a terrible pain tore her heart.