y, a well-bred lady, who stood before her,
and very politely she bade her be seated.

Rather haughtily the proffered chair was declined, while the veil was
thrown aside, disclosing to the astonished gaze of Mrs. Graham the
face of 'Lena Rivers, which was unnaturally pale, while her dark eyes
grew darker with the intensity of her feelings.

"'Lena Rivers! why came you here?" she asked, while at the mention of
that name Durward started to his feet, but quickly resumed his seat,
listening with indescribable emotions to the sound of a voice which
made every nerve quiver with pain.

"You ask me why I am here, madam," said 'Lena. "I came to seek an
explanation from you--to know of what I am accused--to ask why you
wrote me that insulting letter--me, an orphan girl, alone and
unprotected in the world, and who never knowingly harmed you or
yours."

"Never harmed me or mine!" scornfully repeated Mrs. Graham. "Don't
add falsehood to your other sins--though, if you'll lie to my son,
you of course will to me, his mother."

"Explain yourself, madam, if you please," exclaimed 'Lena, her olden
temper beginning to get the advantage of her.

"And what if I do not please?" sneeringly asked Mrs. Graham.

"Then I will compel you to do so, for my good name is all I have, and
it shall not be wrested from me without an effort on my part to
preserve it," answered 'Lena.

"Perhaps you expect my husband to stand by you and help you. I am
sure it would be very ungentlemanly in him to desert you, now," said
Mrs. Graham, her manner conveying far more meaning than her words.

'Lena trembled from head to foot, and her voice was hardly distinct
as she replied, "Will you explain yourself, or will you not? What
have I done, that you should treat me thus?"

"Done? Done enough, I should think! Haven't you whiled him away
from me with your artful manners? Has he ever been the same man
since he saw you? Hasn't he talked of you in his sleep? made you
most valuable presents which a true woman would have refused? and in
return, haven't you bestowed upon him your daguerreotype, together
with a lock of your hair, on which you no doubt pride yourself, but
which to me and my son seem like so many coiling serpents?"

'Lena had sat down. She could stand no longer, and burying her face
in her hands, she waited until Mrs. Graham had finished. Then,
lifting up her head, she replied in a voice far more husky than the
one in which she before had s