nor Edith dreamed that their recent interview had been
observed by a third party, or had seen the white, convulsed face that
had been looking in upon them, between the blinds at one of the
windows, near which they had been standing.

Anna Goddard had sought her own room, directly after dinner, to make
some little change in her toilet, and get her gloves, which she had
left lying upon her dressing case.

As she opened the door of her boudoir she came very near giving
utterance to a scream of fear upon coming face to face with a man.

The man was Emil Correlli, who had gained entrance to the apartment by
climbing the vine trellis which led to the window. His secret return
was in accordance with a plan previously agreed upon.

He informed his sister that he had sent a card of invitation to Mrs.
Stewart of the Copley Square Hotel.

"I am glad you did," she responded; "I have long desired to meet her."

They then proceeded to discuss the important event of the evening, and
Mrs. Goddard assured him that their plot was progressing admirably.
Still, she manifested a twinge of remorse as she thought of the
despicable trick she had devised against the fair girl whom her
brother was so eager to possess.

"Anna, you must not fail me now!" he exclaimed, "or I will never
forgive you! The girl must be mine, or--"

"Hush!" she interposed, holding up her finger to check him. "Did some
one knock?"

"I heard nothing."

"Wait, I will see," she said, and cautiously opened the door. No one
was there.

"It was only a false alarm," she murmured, glancing down the hall;
then she started, as if stung, as she caught sight of two figures in
the room diagonally opposite hers.

Her face grew ghastly, but her eyes blazed with a tiger-like ferocity.

She closed the door noiselessly, then with stealthy, cat-like
movements, she stole toward the French door, leading out upon the
veranda, throwing a long mantle over her light dress and bare
shoulders. Then she passed out, and crept along the veranda toward a
window of the room where her husband and Edith were talking.

She could see them distinctly through the slats of the blinds, which
were movable--could see the man bending toward the graceful girl, whom
she had never seen so beautiful as now, his face eager, a wistful
light burning in his eyes, while his lips moved rapidly with the tale
that he was pouring into her ears.

She could not hear a word, but her jealous heart imputed the v