physical longings was her earnest desire to keep true to her solemn
promise to the dead--to find, and give her mother's message and her
mother's gift to the beautiful, wayward English girl who yet had
broken that mother's heart.




CHAPTER XII.

THE CUPBOARD IN THE WALL.


But poor Cecile had greater anxieties than the fear of her journey
before her.

Mrs. D'Albert--when she gave her that Russia-leather purse--had said
to her solemnly, and with considerable fear:

"Keep it from Lydia Purcell. Let Lydia know nothing about it, for
Lydia loves money so well that no earthly consideration would make
her spare you. Lydia would take the money, and all my life-work, and
all your hope of finding Lovedy, would be at an end."

This, in substance, was Mrs. D'Albert's speech; and Cecile had not
been many hours in Lydia Purcell's company without finding out how
true those words were.

Lydia loved money beyond all other things. For money she would sell
right, nobleness, virtue. All those moral qualities which are so