all in with his schemes.

"And I will tell you another thing," said Mr. Lind. "I intend to buy you
some furs, Natalie, for the winter. These we will get in Paris."

"I am too much of an expense to you already, papa."

"You forget," said he, with mock gravity, "that you give me your
invaluable services as house-keeper, and that so far you have received
no salary."

There was a knock at the outer door.

"Is it nine o'clock already?" he said, in an altered tone.

"Whom do you expect, papa?"

"Gathorne Edwards."

"Then I will send you in coffee to the study."

But presently Anneli came into the room.

"Pardon, Fraulein, but the gentleman wishes to see you for one minute."

"Let him come in here, then."

Edwards came in, and shook hands with Natalie in an embarrassed manner.
Then he produced a little packet.

"I have a commission, Miss Lind. It is from Signor Calabressa. He sends
you this necklace, and says I am to tell you that he thinks of you
always."

The message had been in reality that Calabressa "thought of her and
loved her always." But Edwards was a shy person, and did not like to
pronounce the word "love" to this beautiful girl, who regarded him with
such proud, frank eyes.

"He has not returned with you, then?"

"No."

"But you can send him a message?"

"I will when I hear of his address."

"Then you will tell him--will you be so kind?--that the little
Natalushka--that is myself," she said, smiling; "you will tell him that
the little Natalushka thanks him, and is not likely to forget him."

The interview between the new visitor and Mr. Lind was speedily got
over. Lind excused himself for giving Edwards the trouble of this second
appointment by saying he had been much engrossed with serious business
during the day. There was, indeed, little new to be communicated about
the Kirski and Calabressa escapade, though Edwards repeated the details
as minutely as possible. He accepted a cigar, and left.

Then Lind got his overcoat and hat and went out of the house. A hansom
took him along to Lisle Street: he arrived there just as ten was
striking.

There were two men at the door; they were Beratinsky and Reitzei. All
three entered and went up the narrow stair in the dark, for the old
German had gone. There was some fumbling for matches on the landing;
then a light was procured, and the gas lit in the central room. Mr. Lind
sat down at his desk; the other two drew in chairs. The whole house was