es of fate,
the meeting of which was so rich in baleful promise. She was
prostrated at the result of her work at the reception. She had seen
Florian in a position of utter humiliation. She had observed the gray
pallor in Elizabeth's face as she walked from the room, and felt on her
conscience the murder of their happiness. She had seen--and this hurt
her more than she would to herself admit--she had seen Brassfield walk
from a whispered conversation with herself--an amorous, wooing
conversation--to a secret meeting with Daisy Scarlett; so that she felt
despoiled of the hold she had had on the affections of even Amidon's
false second self, Brassfield. For all this she blamed herself because
of the little jealous spite, to gratify which she had made Brassfield
walk his disastrous hour on the stage. What should she do? What could
she do? She secluded herself and pondered. On this second day, she
made her resolve: she would see Miss Waldron, and if possible explain
as much of the mystery as might serve to satisfy her with reference to
the affair of the East Room. Accordingly, a note went up to the house
with the white columns, asking for a meeting. And as the messenger
departed, the card of Judge Blodgett came in.

"No!" said Madame le Claire, to his request, "no, I must be excused! I
can not conscientiously put him in that state again. If you could have
seen him when last----"

"Exactly!" said the judge, filling in the pause. "And as I didn't see
that reception affair, you must tell me about it. It's important for
me to know."

When he had been told, the judge walked back and forth in evident
perturbation, fingering over the leaves of a little square book which
he took from his pocket.

"Did you ever," said he at last, "happen to hear what was the rule laid
down in the breach of promise case of Hall versus Maguire?"

"Breach of promise!" ejaculated the young woman, inferring a volume
from the words. "What do you mean?"

"These facts of which you inform me," said he, "bring Mr. Amidon's case
within the rule in Hall versus Maguire, square as a die! Oh, I forgot
to tell you! Mr. Amidon, doing business under the name and style of
Eugene Brassfield, has been sued by Miss Daisy Scarlett, for breach of
promise. No publicity, as yet, but----"

"Oh, it must be stopped!" exclaimed the occultist; "it shall be
stopped! He is not guilty. He was irresponsible--ask papa about it;
he will tell you so. This g