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“That winter we first met Willis Starr. He was a newcomer, and nobody knew much about him, but one or two of the best families took him up, and his own fascinations did the rest. He became what you would call the rage. He was considered very handsome, his manners were polished and easy, and people said he was rich.

“I don’t think, Amy, that I ever trusted Willis Starr. But like all the rest, I was blinded by his charm. Mother was almost the only one who did not worship at his shrine, and very often she dropped hints about penniless adventurers that made Eliza very indignant.

“From the first he had paid Eliza marked attention and seemed utterly bewitched by her. Well, his was an easy winning. Eliza loved him with her whole impulsive, girlish heart and made no attempt to hide it.

“I shall never forget the night they were first engaged. It was Eliza’s birthday, and we were invited to a ball that evening. This yellow gown is the very one she wore. I suppose that is why she put it away here–the gown she wore on the happiest night of her life. I had never seen her look more beautiful–her neck and arms were bare, and she wore this string of pearls and carried a bouquet of her favourite white roses.

“When we reached home after the dance, Eliza had her happy secret to tell us. She was engaged to Willis Starr, and they were to be married in early spring.

“Willis Starr certainly seemed to be an ideal lover, and Eliza was so perfectly happy that she seemed to grow more beautiful and radiant every day.

“Well, Amy, the wedding day was set. Eliza was to be married from the Grange, as her own mother was dead, and I was to be bridesmaid. We made her wedding dress together, she and I. Girls were not above making their own gowns then, and not a stitch was set in Eliza’s save those put there by loving fingers and blessed by loving wishes. It was I who draped the veil over her sunny curls–see how yellow and creased it is now, but it was as white as snow that day.

“A week before the wedding, Willis Starr was spending the evening at the Grange. We were all chattering gaily about the coming event, and in speaking of the invited guests Eliza said something about the other Eliza Laurance, the great heiress, looking archly at Willis over her shoulder as she spoke. It was some merry badinage about the cousin whose namesake she was but whom she so little resembled.

“We all laughed, but I shall never forget the look that came over Willis Starr’s face. It passed quickly, but the chill fear that it gave me remained. A few minutes later I left the room on some trifling errand, and as I returned through the dim hall I was met by Willis Starr. He laid his hand on my arm and bent his evil face–for it was evil then, Amy–close to mine.

“‘Tell me,’ he said in a low but rude tone, ‘is there another Eliza Laurance who is an heiress?’

“‘Certainly there is,’ I said sharply. ‘She is our cousin and the daughter of our Uncle George. Our Eliza is not an heiress. You surely did not suppose she was!’

“Willis stepped aside with a mocking smile.

“‘I did–what wonder? I had heard much about the great heiress, Eliza Laurance, and the great beauty, Eliza Laurance. I supposed they were one and the same. You have all been careful not to undeceive me.’

“‘You forget yourself, Mr. Starr, when you speak so to me,’ I retorted coldly. ‘You have deceived yourself. We have never dreamed of allowing anyone to think that Eliza was an heiress. She is sweet and lovely enough to be loved for her own sake.’

“I went back to the parlour full of dismay. Willis Starr remained gloomy and taciturn all the rest of the evening, but nobody seemed to notice it but myself.