selfish," said he. "I'll give that game up forever."

By and by, a mere negative revenge was not enough for him, and he set
his wits to work to make her smart.

He wrote to her from his lodgings:--

DEAR MADAM,--What a pity you are never at home to me. I had something to
say about your husband, that I thought might interest you.

Yours truly,

R. FALCON.

Imagine the effect of this abominable note. It was like a rock flung
into a placid pool. It set Rosa trembling all over. What could he mean?

She ran with it to her father, and asked him what Mr. Falcon could mean.

"I have no idea," said he. "You had better ask him, not me."

"I am afraid it is only to get to see me. You know he admired me once.
Ah, how suspicious I am getting."

Rosa wrote to Falcon:--

DEAR SIR,--Since my bereavement I see scarcely anybody. My servant did
not know you; so I hope you will excuse me. If it is too much trouble to
call again, would you kindly explain your note to me?

Yours respectfully,

ROSA STAINES.

Falcon chuckled bitterly over this. "No, my lady," said he. "I'll serve
you out. You shall run after me like a little dog. I have got the bone
that will draw you."

He wrote back coldly to say that the matter he had wished to communicate
was too delicate and important to put on paper; that he would try and
get down to Gravesend again some day or other, but was much occupied,
and had already put himself to inconvenience. He added, in a postscript,
that he was always at home from four to five.

Next day he got hold of the servant, and gave her minute instructions,
and a guinea.

Then the wretch got some tools and bored a hole in the partition wall of
his sitting-room. The paper had large flowers. He was artist enough
to conceal the trick with water-colors. In his bed-room the hole came
behind the curtains.

That very afternoon, as he had foreseen, Mrs. Staines called on him. The
maid, duly instructed, said Mr. Falcon was out, but would soon return,
and could she wait his return? The maid being so very civil, Mrs.
Staines said she would wait a little while, and was immediately ushered
into Falcon's sitting-room. There she sat down; but was evidently ill at
ease, restless, flushed. She could not sit quiet, and at last began to
walk up and down the room, almost wildly. Her beautiful eyes glittered,
and the whole woman seemed on fire. The caitiff, who was watching her,
saw and gloated on all this, and enjoyed to