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_ A DREADFUL TEMPTATION. 87
lionaire changed hands, and Howard Templeton was victor
now,
Her passionate revenge, her perilous. secret. belonge” to
the world now. . It was as Howard had said. He could not
have spared her if he would, for Jack Mainwaring was
filled with rage and scorn at the knowledge that Xenie had
made his innocent child the instrument of a wicked re-
venge.
Passionate and impulsive, and hating his wife's relations
with cordial good will, Jack lost no time in spreading the .
story to the winds.
The day came when a bitter impulse moved him to re-
pentance, but it was too late to undo his work.
‘“You were very wrong, Jack,” little Lora said to him,
tearfully ; ‘‘ you should have remembered that it was not for
her sake alone my sister planned and carried out the de-
ception. She gained her revenge, but she also saved my
name from obloquy. When you rail so bitterly against
her, do not forget that I also lent myself to the deception in
my cowardly fear of the world’s censure.
So Captain Mainwaring was slowly brought to take a
more reasonable view of the case. He apologized bluntly
but heartily to Xenie, and she forgave with him an almost
apathetic indifference.
For the beautiful and passionate woman was changed.
now almost beyond belief.. Even as she had hastened to be
revenged on Howard Templeton for her wrongs, she now
made haste to offer restitution. He had no need to contend
for his rights. Every dollar of which she had defrauded
him was now legally restored to him again.
And when that act of. restitution was accomplished,
Xenie fell into strange and dangerous apathy. The idle
tongues of the world wagged busily, but she of whom they
gabbled remained secluded in her beautiful home, silent,
thoughtful, sufficient unto herself, heedless alike, itseemed,
of their praise or blame.
But the sorrowing mother who daily condemned herself
for her share in the trouble, as she anxiously watched her
daughter, saw that her delicate cheek was growing thin
and white, the brilliant lustre was fading from the mourn-
ful black eyes, the musical voice had a subtle tone of
weariness. How could it be otherwise when she had lost so
muck: at one fell stroke of: fate?
Fortune, revenge, the world’s applause, even the little
child whom-she had loved almost as her own, had slipped
from her clasp in an hour, and left her empty-handed on
the bleak shores of fate. .
She did not know what to do with her blank and ruined
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