had known in the past came over her. But when the girl spoke, a more
inexplicable sensation took possession of the listener, for her voice
was the feminine of Preston Cheney's masculine tones, and then as she
looked at the girl again the haunting memories of the first glance
were explained, for she was very like Preston Cheney as the Baroness
remembered him when he came to the Palace to engage rooms more than a
score of years ago. "What a strange thing these resemblances are!"
she thought. "This girl is more like Senator Cheney, far more like
him, than Alice is. Ah, if Alice only had her face and form!"

Miss Irving gave a slight start, and took a step back as her eyes
fell upon the Baroness. The rector's card had read, "Introducing Mrs
Sylvester Lawrence." She had known this lad by sight ever since her
first Sunday as organist at St Blank's, and for some unaccountable
reason she had conceived a most intense dislike for her. Joy was
drawn toward humanity in general, as naturally as the sunlight falls
on the earth's foliage. Her heart radiated love and sympathy toward
the whole world. But when she did feel a sentiment of distrust or
repulsion she had learned to respect it.

Our guardian angels sometimes send these feelings as danger signals
to our souls.

It therefore required a strong effort of her will to go forward and
extend a hand in greeting to the lady whom her rector and friend had
introduced.

"I must beg pardon for this intrusion," the Baroness said with her
sweetest smile; "but our rector urged me to come and so I felt
emboldened to carry out the wish I have long entertained to make your