The ashen face of the tottering old pedant had offered her no welcome to a happy home.
"How hideously like my father, this old bookworm," murmured the frightened girl in a strange repulsion, as she fled away to her room.

It was a grateful relief when the servant maid announced that the travelers would be served in their rooms.
"The Master lives entirely alone," the girl said shortly.

Late that first night the lonely girl sat gazing at the windows rattling under the flying wrack, while Douglas Fraser and his father communed below her until the midnight hour.

Suddenly Justine Delande was summoned to join them "on urgent business," and the heiress of a million sat with clasped hands, murmuring: "Will he ever find me out here?
This is only a cheerless prison.

I am, forever, lost to the world." There was that in Justine Delande's face on her return which startled the heart-sick wanderer.
"Ask me nothing--nothing to-night.