black eyes, and spare wasted framp of the handsome man, who had
always reigned as a brutal ogre in her imagination. The fire in his
somewhat sunken eyes, seemed to bid defiance to the whiteness of the
abundant hair, and of the heavy mustache which drooped over his
lips; and every feature in his patrician face revealed not only a
long line of blue-blooded ancestors, but the proud haughtiness which
had been considered always as distinctively characteristic of the
Darringtons as their finely cut lips, thin nostrils, small feet and
unusual height.

Unprepared for the apparition that confronted him, Luke Darrington
bowed low, surveyed her intently, then pointed to a chair opposite
his own.

"Walk in, Madam; or perhaps it may be Miss? Will you take a seat,
and excuse the feebleness that forces me to receive visits in my
bed-room?"

As he reseated himself, Beryl advanced and stood beside him, but for
a moment she found it impossible to utter the words, rehearsed so
frequently during her journey; and while she hesitated, he curiously
inspected her face and form.

Her plain, but perfectly fitting bunting dress, was of the color,
popularly dominated "navy-blue," and the linen collar and cuffs were
scarcely whiter than the round throat and wrists they encircled. The
burnished auburn hair clinging in soft waves to her brow, was
twisted into a heavy coil, which the long walk had shaken down till
it rested almost on her neck; and though her heart beat furiously,
the pale calm face might have been marble, save for the scarlet