lines of her beautiful mouth, and the steady glow of the dilated
pupils in her great gray eyes.

"Pray be seated; and tell me to whom I am indebted for the pleasure
of this visit?"

"I am merely the bearer of a letter which will explain itself, and
my presence, in your house."

Mechanically he took the preferred letter, and with his eyes still
lingering in admiration upon the classic outlines of her face and
form, leaned back comfortably against the velvet lining of his
armchair.

"Are you some exiled goddess travelling incognito? If we lived in
the 'piping days of Pan' I should flatter myself that 'Ox-eyed Juno'
had honored me with a call, as a reward for my care of her favorite
bird."

Receiving no reply he glanced at the envelope in his hand, and as he
read the address--"To my dear father, Gen'l Luke Darrington"--the
smile on his face changed to a dark scowl and he tossed the letter
to the floor, as if it were a red-hot coal.

"Only one living being has the right to call me father--my son,
Prince Darrington. I have repeatedly refused to hold any
communication with the person who wrote that letter."

Beryl stooped to pick it up, and with a caressing touch, as though
it were sentient, held it against her heart.