nly happen. Beryl was very
rich now, and no doubt that man knew it. The death of her father had
been put in all the papers. There had been public chatter about the
fortune he had left. Men like Arabian knew what they were about. They
worked with deliberation, worked according to plan. And Beryl was
beautiful as well as rich.

Things could not be left as they were.

If she did not send that letter Lady Sellingworth told herself that she
would have to see Beryl and speak to her. She would have to say what
she had written. But that would be intolerable. The girl would ask
questions, would insist on explanations, would demand to be enlightened.
And then--As she sat by the writing-table, plunged in thought,
Lady Sellingworth lost all count of time. But at last she took the
sealing-wax, put it to the candle flame, and sealed up the letter. She
had resolved that she would take the risk of sending it. Anything was
better than seeing Beryl, than speaking about this horror. And Beryl
would surely not be dishonourable.

Having sealed the letter Lady Sellingworth took it with her upstairs.
She had decided to leave it herself at Claridge's Hotel on the morrow.

But after a wretched night she was again seized by hesitation. A devil
came and tempted her, asking her what business this was of hers, why she
should interfere in this matter. Beryl was audacious, self-possessed,
accustomed to take her own way, to live as she chose, to know all sorts
and conditions of men. She was not an ignorant girl, inexperienced in
the ways of the world. She knew how to take care of herself. Why
not destroy the letter and just keep silence? She had really no
responsibility in this matter. Beryl was only an acquaintance who had
tried to harm her happiness. And then the tempter suggested to her that
by taking any action she must inevitably injure her own life. He brought
to her mind thoughts of Craven. If she let Beryl alone the fascination
of Arabian might work upon the girl so effectually that Craven would
mean nothing to her any more; but if she sent the letter, or spoke, and
Beryl heeded the warning, eventually, perhaps very soon, Beryl would
turn again to Craven.

By warning Beryl Lady Sellingworth would very probably turn a weapon
upon herself. And she realized that fully. For she had no expectation
of real gratitude from the girl expressing itself in instinctive
unselfishness.

"I should merely make an enemy by doing it," she thought. "Or rat