xclaimed Mrs. Goddard, looking relieved. "Judging from that, I
should say that the girl has not yet revealed the true state of
affairs."

"No; Dr. Arthur did not appear to know how to account for her
condition, and asked me if I knew anything that could have caused it."

"Of course, you did not?" said madam, meaningly.

"No; except the excitement, etc., of the occasion."

"Well, don't worry," Mrs. Goddard returned; "everything will come out
all right in time. It is a great piece of luck that she did not wail
and rave and let out the whole story before the doctor and the maids.
Your Mrs. Stewart is here--you must come and greet her and introduce
me," she concluded, glancing toward her guest as she spoke.

"I was coming to tell you that I am going to my room and to bed--I
have no heart for any gayety to-night," said Emil Correlli, gloomily.

"Nonsense! don't be so absurdly foolish, Emil," responded his sister,
impatiently.

"Indeed! I think it would be improper for me to remain when my wife is
so ill," he objected, but flushing as he uttered the word.

"Well, perhaps; do as you choose. But come and introduce me to Mrs.
Stewart before you go; she must feel rather awkward to be a guest here
and not know her hostess."

CHAPTER XV.

"OH, GOD! I KNEW IT! YOU ARE--ISABEL!"

With a somewhat reluctant air, Emil Correlli offered his arm to his
sister and led her toward the woman around whom a group of
distinguished people had gathered, and whom she was entertaining with
an ease and grace that proclaimed her perfectly at home among the
_creme de la creme_ of society.

She appeared not to perceive the approach of her hostess and her
brother, but continued the animated conversation in which she was
engaged.

A special observer, however, would have noticed the peculiar fire
which began to burn in her beautiful eyes.

When Mr. Correlli presented his sister, she turned with fascinating
grace, making a charming acknowledgment, although she did not offer
her hostess her hand.

"You are very welcome, Mrs. Stewart," Mrs. Goddard remarked, in
response to some words of apology for being a guest in the house
without a previous acquaintance. "I only regret that we have not met
before."

"Thanks; I, too, deplore the complication of circumstances which has
prevented an earlier meeting," was the sweet-voiced response.

But there was a peculiar shading in the remark which, somehow, grated
harshly upon Anna Goddard's e