In one corner, and artistically draped with a beautiful scarf, Edith was startled, almost at the moment of her entrance, to see a painting that was very familiar.
It was that representing a portion of an old Roman wall, with the lovers resting in its shadow, which had attracted the attention of Mrs. Stewart on the last night of the "winter frolic," at Wyoming.
With an expression of astonishment she went forward to examine it more closely and to assure herself that it was the original, and not a copy.
Yes, those two tiny letters, G. G., in one corner, told their own story, and proved her surmise to be correct.
"How strange that it should be here!" she breathed.
She had hardly uttered the words when some one arose from behind the easel, and—she stood face to face with Gerald Goddard himself.
The girl stood white and almost paralyzed before him, and the man appeared scarcely less astonished on beholding her.
"Miss Allen!" he faltered. "I never dreamed of meeting you here!"
"Oh, pray do not tell Monsieur Correlli that you have seen me," she gasped, fear for the moment superseding every other thought.
"Do not be troubled—he shall learn nothing from me," said the man, reassuringly. "Correlli and I are not very good friends just now, simply because I told him that I should do all in my power to help you prove that he had no just claim upon you."