One morning Helen came on deck with two or three recent magazines, which a chance acquaintance had loaned her. She handed two of them to her husband, and, tucking herself snugly into her own chair, proceeded to look over the other, with Dorothy standing beside her to see the pictures.
By and by the child ran away to play, and Helen became interested in a story. A half hour passed, and she had become deeply interested in the tale she was reading, when she was startled by a smothered exclamation from John.
She glanced at him, to find him gazing intently at a picture in one of the magazines she had given him. The man's face was all aglow with admiration and pleased surprise, and she noted that the hand which held the periodical trembled from some inward emotion.
Wondering what could have moved him so, yet feeling unaccountably reluctant to question him, she appeared not to notice his excitement, and composedly went on with her reading. Presently he arose, saying he was going aft for a smoke, and left her alone; but, to her great disappointment, taking the magazine with him.
Later in the day, on going to their stateroom, however, she found it in his berth, tucked under his pillow!
Eagerly seizing it, she began to search it through, when suddenly, on turning a leaf, a great shock went quivering through her, for there on the page before her was the picture of a woman, the exact counterpart of the half-finished portrait she had seen in John's work-room during her visit to Monsieur Jacques.
Like a flash, her eyes dropped to the name beneath it.
"Marie Duncan, with the Wells Opera Company, now in Australia," was what she read.
On the opposite page was a brief account of the troupe and the musical comedy, which, during the past season, had had an unprecedented run in Paris, and was now making a great hit in Melbourne, Miss Duncan, the star, literally taking the public by storm.
"Well, that mystery is finally solved! And doubtless she was the owner of that pink glove, also," mused Helen, her lips curling with fine scorn, as she studied the fascinating face before her. "Thank fortune," she presently added, with a sigh of thankfulness, as she closed the book and replaced it under the pillow, "she is away in Australia, and we are every day increasing the distance between us."