"Too well." The tone was deep with meaning but there was no
accusation in it; nor was there any note of relief. It was more as
if some hope deeply, and perhaps unconsciously, cherished had
suffered a sudden and complete extinction.

The change this made in him was too perceptible for her not to
observe it. The shadow lying deep in her eyes now darkened her
whole face. She had tried to prepare him for this moment; tried to
prepare herself. But who can prepare the soul for the return of
old troubles or make other than startling the resurrection of a
ghost laid, as men thought, forever.

"You see that it was no fault of my own I was trying to hide," she
finally remarked in her rich and sympathetic voice.

"Put back your veil."

It was all he said.

Trembling she complied, murmuring as she fumbled with its folds:

"Disgrace to an Ostrander! I know that I was mad to risk it for a
moment. Forgive me for the attempt, and listen to my errand.
Oliver was willing to marry my child, even after he knew the shame
it would entail. But Reuther would not accept the sacrifice. When
she learned, as she was obliged to now, that her father had not
only been sentenced to death for the worst crime in the calendar,
but had suffered the full penalty, leaving only a legacy of
eternal disgrace to his wife and innocent child, she showed a