us, in your own private mind, to
have this matter cleared up as I am."

"With one difference--that I think of consequences, and you don't."
He said it, in his gentlest and kindest manner, and stepped into the
conservatory.

"Never mind the consequences," she called after him, "if we can only get
at the truth. I hate being deceived!"

"There is no person living who has better reason than you have to say
that."

Emily looked round with a start. Alban was out of hearing. It was
Francine who had answered her.

"What do you mean?" she said.

Francine hesitated. A ghastly paleness overspread her face.

"Are you ill?" Emily asked.

"No--I am thinking."

After waiting for a moment in silence, Emily moved away toward the door
of the drawing-room. Francine suddenly held up her hand.

"Stop!" she cried.

Emily stood still.

"My mind is made up," Francine said.

"Made up--to what?"

"You asked what I meant, just now."

"I did."

"Well, my mind is made up to answer you. Miss Emily Brown, you are
leading a sadly frivolous life in this house. I am going to give you
something more serious to think about than your flirtation with Mr.
Mirabel. Oh, don't be impatient! I am coming to the point. Without
knowing it yourself, you have been the victim of deception for years
past--cruel deception--wicked deception that puts on the mask of mercy."

"Are you alluding to Miss Jethro?" Emily asked, in astonishment. "I
thought you were strangers to each other. Just now, you wanted to know
who she was."

"I know nothing about her. I care nothing about her. I am not thinking
of Miss Jethro."

"Who are you thinking of?"

"I am thinking," Francine answered, "of your dead father."

CHAPTER XLVIII. INVESTIGATING.

Having revived his sinking energies in the fruit garden, Mirabel
seated himself under the shade of a tree, and reflected on the critical
position in which he was placed by Francine's jealousy.

If Miss de Sor continued to be Mr. Wyvil's guest, there seemed to be no
other choice before Mirabel than to leave Monksmoor--and to trust to
a favorable reply to his sister's invitation for the free enjoyment of
Emily's society under another roof. Try as he might, he could arrive
at no more satisfactory conclusion than this. In his preoccupied state,
time passed quickly. Nearly an hour had elapsed before he rose to return
to the house.

Entering the hall, he was startled by a cry of terror in a woman's
voice, comin