nd Esther was left alone with her employer.
Lady Clifford did not glance in her direction, but put up her hand with
a restless, irritable movement and swept the big wavy lock of hair off
her forehead.

"_Qu'il fait chaud!_" she exclaimed, going to the nearest window and
flinging it open with a jerk. "Stifling! There, that is better."

She stood for several seconds breathing in the fresh air, her body
tense as if on steel wires, her head thrown back. Then, relaxing
somewhat, she turned and spoke to Esther, as if suddenly recalling her
presence.

"You come from New York, I hear," she said, with another keen glance;
"do you like it, New York?"

Esther replied that she did, but Lady Clifford closed her eyes, not
listening.

"Ah, New York, that is a place I have never visited. It must be
marvellous. Some day I shall go there, some day when I am..."

She did not finish, for at that moment the butler came in to announce
lunch. She had stretched out her arms with a sort of abandon, but now
she let them fall abruptly, gave a sigh, and without looking in
Esther's direction walked into her own bedroom on the right, perhaps to
give a touch to her hair, or another brush of powder to her flawless
nose.

The breeze, with wet freshness, cleansed the over-perfumed room,
fluttering the papers on the writing-table. The top sheet sailed
through the air and settled on the hearthrug. Mechanically Esther
picked it up to replace it, the habit of order being strong upon her.
Unavoidably she saw that it was covered with figures in angular French
writing, money sums by the look of them, with frequent signs of the
pound and the franc. She anchored the paper upon the blotter with a
little carving of amethyst crystal, then, turning away, perceived Lady
Clifford, motionless in the doorway, regarding her with eyes narrowed
suspiciously.

"Your papers were blowing about," explained Esther. Inwardly she was
asking herself: "What is the matter with me? I always seem to be
imagining things with this woman!"

With one of her swift movements the beautiful Therese snatched up the
rescued sheet and tore it to bits.

"It is of no consequence, this," she remarked indifferently, dropping
the pieces into the waste-basket.

Again Esther noticed those stumpy, abbreviated fingers, so oddly at
variance with the rest of their owner.

"_Bien_," said Lady Clifford, flashing a charming smile upon her. "Let
us have our _dejeuner."

She led t