ent, and then the subject was considered settled.

In the meantime Tyrrel and Ethel had reached London and gone to the
Metropole Hotel; because, as Ethel said, no one knew where Dora was; but
if in England, she was likely to be at the Savoy. They were to be two
days in London. Tyrrel had banking and other business to fully occupy
the time, and Ethel remembered she had some shopping to do, a thing any
woman would discover if she found herself in the neighborhood of Regent
Street and Piccadilly. On the afternoon of the second day this duty was
finished, and she returned to her hotel satisfied but a little weary. As
she was going up the steps she noticed a woman coming slowly down them.
It was Dora Mostyn. They met with great enthusiasm on Dora's part, and
she turned back and went with Ethel to her room.

Ethel looked at her with astonishment. She was not like any Dora she had
previously seen. Her beauty had developed wondrously, she had grown much
taller, and her childish manner had been superseded by a carriage and
air of superb grace and dignity. She had now a fine color, and her eyes
were darker, softer, and more dreamy than ever. "Take off your hat,
Dora," said Ethel, "and tell me what has happened. You are positively
splendid. Where is Mr. Mostyn?"

"I neither know nor care. He is tramping round the world after me, and
I intend to keep him at it. But I forget. I must tell you how THAT has
come about."

"We heard from Mrs. Denning. She said she had received you safely."

"My dear mother! She met me like an angel; comforted and cared for
me, never said one word of blame, only kissed and pitied me. We talked
things over, and she advised me to go to New York. So we took three
passages under the names of Mrs. John Gifford, Miss Gifford, and Miss
Diana Gifford. Miss Diana was my maid, but mother thought a party of
three would throw Mostyn off our track."

"A very good idea."

"We sailed at once. On the second day out I had a son. The poor little
fellow died in a few hours, and was buried at sea. But his birth has
given me the power to repay to Fred Mostyn some of the misery he caused
me."

"How so? I do not see."

"Oh, you must see, if you will only remember how crazy Englishmen are
about their sons. Daughters don't count, you know, but a son carries
the property in the family name. He is its representative for the next
generation. As I lay suffering and weeping, a fine scheme of revenge
came clearly to me. List