be cool, as frigid as the effect of
that strange mask of which they formed a part.

Then, held at arm's-length, she submitted to an inspection whose sum was
enunciated with a strange smile of gratification:

"You are beautiful."

In embarrassment she murmured: "I am glad you think so--father."

"As beautiful as your mother--in her time the most beautiful creature in
the world--her image, a flawless reproduction, even to her colouring, the
shade of the hair, the eyes--so like the sea!"

"I am glad," the girl repeated, nervously.

"And until to-night I did not know you lived!"

She mustered up courage enough to ask: "How--?"

The heavy lids drooped lower over the illegible eyes. "My attention was
called to a newspaper advertisement signed by a firm of solicitors. I got
in touch with them--a matter of some difficulty, since it was after
business hours--and found out where to look for you. Then, prevented from
acting as quickly as I wished, myself, I sent Karslake here to bring you to
me."

"But, according to their letter, the solicitors thought I was in France, in
a convent!"

"When they advertised for me--yes. But by the time I enquired they were
better informed."

"But the advertisement was addressed to Michael Lanyard!"

The thin lips formed a faint smile. "That was once my name. I no longer use
it."

Against a feeling that she was adopting an attitude both undutiful and
unbecoming, Sofia persisted.

"Why?"

Prince Victor Vassilyevski gave a gesture of pain and reluctance.

"Must I tell you? Why not? You must know some day, as well now as later,
perhaps. Twenty years ago the name of Michael Lanyard was famous throughout
Europe--or shall I say infamous?--the name of the greatest thief of modern
times, otherwise known as 'The Lone Wolf'."

Involuntarily, Sofia stepped back, as if some shape of horror had been
suddenly thrust before her face.

"The Lone Wolf!" she echoed in a voice of dismay. "A thief! You!"

The man who called himself her father replied with a series of slow,
affirmative nods.

"That startles you?" he said in an indulgent voice. "Naturally. But you
will soon grow accustomed to the thought, you will condone that chapter in
my history, remembering I am no longer that man, no longer a thief, that
for many years now my record has been without reproach. You will remember
that there is more joy in Heaven over the one sinner who repents ... You
will forgive the father, if only for your