"You are Sheila Boyne, aren't you?" she asked in a low half-guttural
note.
"I am Sheila Llyn," was the astonished reply. "It's the same thing,"
came the response. "You are the daughter of Erris Boyne."
Sheila turned pale. Who was this woman that knew her and her history?
"What is your name?" she asked--"your real name--what is it?"
"My name is Noreen Balfe; it was Noreen Boyne." For a moment Sheila
could not get her bearings. The heavy scent of the flowers coming in at
the window almost suffocated her. She seemed to lose a grip of herself.
Presently she made an effort at composure. "Noreen Boyne! You were then
the second wife of Erris Boyne?"
"I was his second wife. His first wife was your mother--you are like
your mother!" Noreen said in agitation.
The meaning was clear. Sheila laid a sharp hand on herself. "Don't get
excited," she urged with kindly feeling. "He is dead and gone."
"Yes, he is dead and gone."
For a moment Noreen seemed to fight for mastery of her emotion, and
Sheila said: "Lie still. It is all over. He cannot hurt us now."
The other shook her head in protest.
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