meant
to be kind, although the note read so coldly. He would go, and perhaps
during the interview she might be persuaded to help him. After all, she
must know that he had been engaged to marry the dead girl, and
fancied--as Mrs. Cairns had done--that he wished to have Anne arrested.

The following evening he arrayed himself with particular care and drove
in a hansom to Westminster. The cab stopped before a great pile of brick
buildings near the Abbey, and when Giles had dismissed it he entered a
large and well-lighted hall with a tesselated pavement. Here a porter
volunteered, on ascertaining his business, to conduct him to the door of
the Princess Karacsay's flat, which was on the first floor.

Giles was admitted by a neat maid-servant, who showed him into a
picturesque drawing-room. A tall woman in evening dress was standing
beside the window in the twilight. Giles thought her figure was familiar
and recognized the turn of her head. He uttered a cry.

"Anne," he said, stretching his arms. "Anne, my dearest!"

CHAPTER XI

PRINCESS KARACSAY

Even as he spoke the room was flooded with the light of the electric
lamps. The woman by the window turned and came forward smiling. With a
feeling of bitter disappointment Giles recoiled. It was not Anne. He had
been deceived by a chance resemblance.

"I can quite understand your mistake," said the Princess Karacsay. "It
is not the first time that I have been taken for my friend."

Indeed, she was very like Anne, both in figure and face. She had the
same dark hair and dark eyes, the same oval face and rich coloring. But
her expression was different. She was more haughty than Miss Denham, and
there was less simplicity in her manner. Even as Ware looked at her the
likeness seemed to vanish, and he wondered that he should have made such
a mistake. But for the twilight, the turn of her head, and her height,
together with the way in which she carried herself, he would not have
been deceived.

"One would take you for Miss Denham's sister," he said when seated.

The Princess smiled oddly. "We are alike in many ways," she replied
quietly. "I look upon Miss Denham as my second self. You called me Anne
when you mistook me for her," she added, with a keen glance.

"I have no right to do so, Princess, but----" He hesitated, not knowing
how to choose his words. She saw his perplexity and smiled.

"I quite understand, Mr. Ware."

"Anne--I mean Miss Denham--has told you ab