r utmost height which wasn't lofty then and said
hastily: "Mr. Mann, this is utterly absurd, and more. I am not a child,
and if I catch an idly flung bouquet that holds idle secrets, I
surely have a right to them." She laughed hurriedly. "Come, give me my
note,--some Italian babble, I dare say."

Norman looked at her for a minute with a struggle in his heart and a
flash of half scorn, Mae thought, on his face. What was he thinking?

That the child was in danger. He had no doubt in his own mind now that
the flowers and the note came from Bero and that Mae knew it. He held
the paper crushed in his hand, while he looked at her.

"I presume you will never forgive me," he said, "but I must warn you,
not as a mentor or even as a friend," noticing her annoyed air, "but as
one soul is bound to warn another soul, seeing it in danger. Take care
of yourself, and there!" And taking the crushed note between his two
hands, he deliberately tore it asunder and threw the halves on the table
before her.

"And there, and there, and there!" cried Mae, tearing the fragments
impetuously, and scattering the sudden little snow flakes before him.
Then, with a look of supreme contempt, she left the room.

Norman looked down on the white heap that lay peacefully at his feet. "I
am a fool," he thought.

"Little Mae Madden, little Mae Madden, I am so sorry for you," repeated
that excited bit of womankind to herself in the silence of her own room.
"What won't they drive you to yet? How dreadful they think you are? And
only last night we thought things were all coming around beautifully!"

And she looked at herself pityingly in the glass. A mirror is a
dangerous thing for a woman who has come to pity herself. She sees the
possibilities of her face too clearly. And Mae, looking into the mirror
then, realized to an extent she never had before, that her eyes and
mouth might be powerful friends to herself and foes to Norman Mann,
if she so desired. And to-day she did so desire, and went down to the
Carnival with as reckless and dangerous a spirit as good King Pasquino
could have asked.

The details of this day were very like those of the last. Norman and
Eric vibrated between the Madden and Hopkins balconies; the crowd was
great; confetti and flowers filled the air; and up above it all,
circled by her crown of misty, heavy lace-work, shone out the beautiful,
wonderful face of the strange lady. She dropped smiles from under her
long black lashes