man, so that she might confer new lustre upon so exalted a lineage.

[Illustration: "SHE SAW THE BLACK SERVANT, HUGO."]

As she wandered through the rooms and galleries all her childhood came
back before her. She recalled her mother, her fond love, and her early
death. That mother's picture hung in the great hall, and she gazed at it
long and pensively, recalling that noble face, which in her remembrance
was always softened by the sweet expression of tenderest love. But it
was here that something met her eyes which in a moment chased away every
regretful thought and softer feeling, and brought back in fresh
vehemence the strong glow of her grief and indignation. Turning away
from her mother's portrait by a natural impulse to look for that of her
father, she was at first unable to find it. At length, at the end of the
line of Dalton portraits, she noticed what at first she had supposed to
be part of the wall out of repair. Another glance, however, showed that
it was the back of a picture. In a moment she understood it. It was her
father's portrait, and the face had been turned to the wall.

Stung by a sense of intolerable insult, her face flushed crimson, and
she remained for a few moments rooted to the spot glaring at the
picture. Who had dared to do this--to heap insult upon that innocent and
suffering head, to wrong so foully the memory of the dead? Her first
impulse was to tear it down with her own hands, and replace it in its
proper position; her next to seek out Wiggins at once and denounce him
to his face for all his perfidy, of which this was the fitting climax.
But a more sober thought followed--the thought of her own weakness.
What could her words avail against a man like that? Better far would it
be for her to wait until she could expel the usurper, and take her own
place as acknowledged mistress in Dalton Hall. This thought made her