etrothed; that she
was counting the moments until she was restored to you, and once more
resting safely in your dear arms.'

"I have been searching for you for some time, Hubert, to tell you our
darling Gerelda is home once more. It was only by the merest chance that
some one saw you enter this hotel and told me. I will be back in one
minute, depend upon it," said Maillard, seizing his hat and flying out
of the door without waiting for a reply. In fact, Varrick could not
have made him any had his life depended on it.

In the midst of Hubert's conflicting thoughts, Maillard returned.

"This way, Varrick," he called cheerily from the door-way; and a moment
later Varrick was hurried into the coupe, which had just drawn up to the
curbstone, and, with Maillard seated beside him, was soon whirling in
the direction of the Northrup mansion to which a servant admitted them.

Maillard thrust aside the heavy satin _portieres_ of the drawing-room,
gently pushed his friend forward, and Hubert felt the heavy silken
draperies close in after him. Through the half gloom he saw a slender
figure flying toward him, and he heard a voice, the sound of which had
been dear to him in the old days that were past and gone, crying out:
"Oh, Hubert! Hubert!" and in that instant Gerelda was in his arms.

Insensibly his arms closed around her; but there was no warmth in the
embrace. She held up her lovely face to be kissed, and he bent his
handsome head and gave her the caress she coveted; but for him was gone
all the old rapture that a kiss from those flower-like lips would have
brought. By Hubert Varrick, at this moment, it was given only from a
sense of duty, as love for Gerelda had died.

"Oh, Hubert, Hubert! my darling!" she cried, "is it not like heaven to
be united again?"

She would not notice his coldness; for Gerelda Northrup had laid the
most amazing plan that had ever entered a woman's head.

Immediately upon her dismissal from the Varrick mansion she had stolen
back to the little hamlet where her old nurse lived, and had got the
woman to write a letter for her as she dictated it.

She had said to herself that Hubert Varrick should be hers again, at
whatever cost, and that she might as well force him by any means that
lay in her power into a betrothal with herself again, as long as he was
not married to another.

He should never know that she knew of his change of heart. She would
meet him and greet him as her betrothed lover,