Suddenly the whole room was startled by a cry. It came from Neil, who, with a white face, was staring at a photograph.

"What's the matter?" asked his host, hurrying towards him. "Are you ill?"

"Who-who-is this?" stammered young Webster, pointing to the portrait of a thick-set man who figured in a group.

"An old clerk of mine," replied Mr. Cass, trying hard to steady his voice. "That is a photograph of the clerks in my office some twenty years ago. Why should that face disturb you?"

"I--I--don't know," was the stammering reply. "Have I seen him in a dream? His face is quite familiar to me."

"Pooh! Nonsense!" Mr. Cass had by this time recovered his self-command. "The man died long ago you never saw him."

"But I have seen him," persisted Neil. "I have seen him in a dream, and"--his voice leaped an octave--"I hate him," he exclaimed with passion. "I hate him."

They all stared in amazement. Suddenly Ruth cried "Neil--you are ill--you----"

"Stop!" cried her father, sharply. "He has fainted."

And as he spoke Neil fell back insensible on the cushions.

 

 

 

 

 CHAPTER V.

A SHADOW OF THE PAST.

Webster recovered from his fainting-fit, but he was weak and ill. It seemed extraordinary that the sight of a pictured face should have had such an influence upon him. He himself could give no explanation save that he had been overcome by a feeling of nausea. So, after an apology, he went at once to bed. The party broke up, and Ruth retired, wondering greatly at her lover's strange indisposition.

Half an-hour later she was seated before her bedroom fire in dressing-gown and slippers. Having dismissed her maid, she 

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