passed in and out serving
iced delicacies and champagne.

Suddenly the butler entered the salon and, quietly approaching Alicia,
handed her a letter. In a low tone, he said:

"This letter has just come, m'm. The messenger said it was very
important and I should deliver it at once."

Alicia turned pale. She instantly recognized the handwriting. It was
from Robert Underwood. Was not her last message enough? How dare he
address her again and at such a time? Retiring to an inner room, she
tore open the envelope and read as follows:

DEAR MRS. JEFFRIES: This is the last time I shall ever bore you
with my letters. You have forbidden me to see you again.
Practically you have sentenced me to a living death, but as I
prefer death shall not be partial, but full and complete oblivion,
I take this means of letting you know that unless you revoke your
cruel sentence of banishment, I shall make an end of it all. I
shall be found dead, Monday morning, and you will know who is
responsible. Yours devotedly,

ROBERT UNDERWOOD.

An angry exclamation escaped Alicia's lips, and crushing the note up in
her hand, she bit her lips till the blood came. It was just as she
feared. The man was desperate. He was not to be got rid of so easily.
How dare he--how dare he? The coward--to think that she could be
frightened by such a threat. What did she care if he killed himself? It
would be good riddance. Yet suppose he was in earnest, suppose he did
carry out his threat? There would be a terrible scandal, an
investigation, people would talk, her name would be mentioned.
No--no--that must be prevented at all costs.

Distracted, not knowing what course to pursue, she paced the floor of
the room. Through the closed door she could hear the music and the
chatter of her guests. She must go to see Underwood at once, that was
certain, and her visit must be a secret one. There was already enough
talk. If her enemies could hear of her visiting him alone in his
apartment that would be the end.

"Yes--I must see him at once. To-morrow is Sunday. He's sure to be home
in the evening. He mentions Monday morning. There will still be time.
I'll go and see him to-morrow."

"Alicia! Alicia!"

The door opened and Mr. Jeffries put his head in.

"What are you doing here, my dear?" he asked. "I was looking everywhere
for you. Judge Brewster wishes to say good night."

"I was fixing my hair, that's all," replied A