man I love, and give him his happiness!"

Peg thought it a noble and lofty sentiment, and a curious feeling of
sympathy and kinship with the Lady Gwendoline swept through her heart.

She, too, if the occasion arose could sacrifice everything--body and
soul--in order that the man she loved might be happy.

CHAPTER XI

When Peg went to Faith's room that night for their usual gossip, she
found the door locked against her.

She rattled the handle impatiently and called:

"Faith!"

There was no answer, and she rapped on the panel, a vague feeling of
surprise in her heart.

"Faith! It's only me--let me in."

There was an answer then.

"I've gone to bed--I'm tired."

"Tired!" Peg echoed the word with disdainful incredulity. She did not
see how Faith could be tired after a day of such ease. She herself was
as fresh and wide awake as a lark.

"You can't be tired," she said emphatically, and rattled the handle once
more. "Faith, let me come in. Does your head ache?"

"Of course not, but I want to go to sleep. Good-night."

There was such finality in the voice that the colour rose to Peg's
handsome face. It was the first time she had ever been shut out from
Faith's confidence, and she searched her mind wildly for some reason
that would explain things.

What had she done? How had she offended?

As she stood there, her fingers on the handle of the locked door, the
Beggar Man came up the stairs.

He had heard Peg's rather loud, insistent voice from the smoking-room
below, and had momentarily left his friend to see if anything was the
matter.

Peg blushed fiery red when she saw him. Her black hair was unbound and
streaming down over her shoulders. She wore a brilliant cherry-coloured
dressing-gown, and her feet were thrust into gaudy Oriental slippers.

"Oh, my gracious!" she said with a gasp.

Forrester's eyes met hers indifferently, though he would have been less
than human had he been blind to the picture she made as she stood there
in the half-light.

The brilliant gown she wore, her dark hair, and the bright, confused
colour in her cheeks accentuated her beauty, for Peg was a beauty, even
if it was of a crude, rather vulgar type, and unconsciously Forrester's
eyes grew admiring as he asked: "Is anything the matter? I thought you
called."

Peg laughed nervously.

"Faith won't open the door, that's all. She says she's tired. There's
nothing the matter." Then she giggled, and swung her long hai