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Updated: June 9, 2025
And it is quite possible that this hope might have been realized had it not been for one of those unfortunate and greatly to be regretted concurrences which so often precede if they do not precipitate many of life's catastrophes. One of Lord Carnavon's grooms was the unfortunate match that caused this explosion.
In her agony she shrank against the wall, her arms outstretched. How did this man know all the secrets of her life? Then there arose a calming thought. He was a priest a man who listened and did not betray. Perhaps, after all, he could help her. He wanted the truth. He should have it. "Yes," she answered, her voice sinking. "I am Lord Carnavon's daughter." "And Felix O'Day's wife?"
She had grown paler and paler during the long recital, her wide-open eyes staring into his, her bosom heaving with suppressed excitement, until at the mention of Felix's name, she staggered to her feet, and cried: "You know Felix O'Day?" "Yes, thank God, I do, and you are his wife, Lady Barbara O'Day, Lord Carnavon's daughter." She cowered like a trapped animal, uncertain which way to spring.
She had stood trembling, looking from one to the other, her heart hammering wildly. No man had ever addressed her with such insolence and before such company. What she feared was that something would snap in her and she fall fainting to the floor. "I will change my dress," she had answered firmly, speaking slowly to hide her terror. She was Lord Carnavon's daughter now.
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