s, whom she had not seen for some weeks,
sent an urgent request that she would call in Porchester Terrace as
soon as possible, to speak of something 'very important'.

This summons Alma durst not disregard. Between Mrs. Strangeways and
Cyrus Redgrave subsisted an intimacy which caused her frequent
uneasiness. It would not have surprised her to discover that this
officious friend knew of all her recent meetings with Redgrave--at the
Crystal Palace and elsewhere; and, but for her innocence, she would
have felt herself at the woman's mercy. That she had not transgressed,
and was in no danger of transgressing, enabled her to move with head
erect among the things unspeakable which always seemed to her to be
lurking in the shadowed corners of Mrs. Strangeways' house. The day was
coming when she might hope to terminate so undesirable an acquaintance,
but for the present she must show a friendly face.

She made this call at three o'clock, and was received in that
over-scented, over-heated boudoir, which by its atmosphere invariably
turned her thoughts to evil. The hostess rose languidly, with a pallid,
hollow-eyed look of illness.

'Only my neuralgic something or other,' she said, in reply to a
sympathetic inquiry. 'It's the price one pays for civilisation. I've
had two terrible days and nights, but it's over for the present. But
for that I should have written to you before. Why, _you_ don't look
quite so well as usual. Be careful--do be careful!'

'I mean to be, if people will let me.'

'You have eight days, haven't you? Yes, just eight days. You ought to
keep as quiet as possible. We are all doing our best; but, after all,
success depends greatly upon yourself, you know.'

The voice, as always, seemed to fondle her, but Alma's ear detected the
usual insincerity. Mrs. Strangeways spoke in much the same way to
numbers of people, yet not quite so caressingly. Some interest she
undoubtedly had to serve by this consistent display of affection, and
with all but certainty Alma divined it. She shrank from the woman; it
cost her an unceasing effort not to betray dislike, or even hostility.

'Of course, you saw last week's _West End_?' pursued the hostess,
smiling. 'You know whose doing that was?'

'I only guessed that it _might_ be Mr. Redgrave's kindness.'

'I have the same suspicion. He was here the other day--we talked about
you. You haven't seen him since then?'

'No.'

'He hinted to me--just a little anxiety. I hardl