Had they seized their prey at that moment of shame and despair, they would have secured it, but their vanity or their self-esteem made them wish to wash off the mire they had cast, or to conceal it by such magnificence at the wedding as should outdo Fifth Avenue.  The English heiress must have a wedding-dress that would figure in the papers, and, even in the States, be fabulously splendid.  It must come from Paris, and it must be waited for.  All the bridesmaids were to have splendid pearl lockets containing coloured miniature photograph portraits of the beautiful bride, who for her part was utterly broken-hearted.  “I thought God had forgotten me, because I deserved it; and I only hoped I might die, for I knew what the sailors said of Gilbert.”

Listless and indifferent, she let her tyrants do what they would with her, and it was in Gilbert’s company that she first saw Janet at the photographer’s.  Fortunately he had never seen Miss Brownlow, and Elvira had grown much too cautious to betray recognition; but the vigilance had been relaxed since the avowal of the engagement, and the colouring of the photographs from the life, was a process so wearisome, that no one cared to attend the sitter, and Elvira could go and come, alone and unquestioned.

So it was that she threw herself upon Janet.  Whatever had been their relations in their girlhood, each was to the other the remnant of the old home and of better days, and in their stolen interviews they met like sisters.  Janet knew as little as Elvira did of her own family, rather less indeed, but she declared Mrs. Gould’s horror about the expedition with Gilbert to have been pure dissimulation, and soon enabled Elvira to prove to herself that it had been a concerted trick.  In America it would go for nothing.  Even in England, so mere an accident (even if it had really been an accident) would not tell against her.  But then, Elvira hopelessly said Allen was married!

Again Janet was incredulous, and when she found that Elvira had never seen the letter in which Kate Gould was supposed to have sent the information, and knew it only upon Lisette’s assertion, she declared it to be probably a fabrication.  Why not telegraph?  So in Elvira’s name and at her expense, but with the address given to Janet’s abode, the telegram was sent to Mr. Wakefield’s office, and in a few hours the reply had come back:  “Allen Brownlow not married, nor likely to be.”

There was no doubt now of the web of falsehood that had entangled the poor girl; but she would probably have been too inert and helpless to break through it, save for her energetic cousin, who nerved her to escape from the life of utter misery that lay before her.  What was to hinder her from setting off by the train, and going at once home to England by the steamer?  There was no doubt that Mrs. Brownlow would forgive and welcome her, or even if that hope failed her, Mr. Wakefield was bound to take care of her.  She had a house of her own standing empty for her, and the owner of £40,000 a year need never be at a loss.