you can not think of going
without some pretext. And what one can you possibly have that will be
at all plausible?"

"Pretext! I have the best in the world. It is hardly a pretext
either. I intend to go openly, in my own proper person--as Lady
Chetwynde."

"As Lady Chetwynde!" repeated Gualtier, in amazement. "What do you
mean? Would it be too much to ask you what your plan may be, or what
it is that you may have in view?"

"It's simple enough," said Hilda. "It is this. You will understand it
readily enough, I think. You see, I have discovered by accident some
mysterious writing in cipher, which by another accident I have been
enabled to unravel. Now you understand that this writing makes very
serious charges indeed against my father, the late General Pomeroy.
He is dead; but I, as an affectionate daughter, am most anxious to
understand the meaning of this fearful accusation thus made against
the best of men. I have seen the name of this Obed Chute mentioned in
some of the papers connected with the secret writing, and have found
certain letters from him referring to the case. Having heard very
unexpectedly that he is in Florence, I intend to call on him to
implore him to explain to me all this mystery."

"That is admirable," said Gualtier.

"Of course it is," said Hilda; "nothing, indeed, could be better.
This will give me admission to the villa. Once in there, I shall have
to rely upon circumstances. Whatever those circumstances may be, I
shall, at least, be confronted with Lord Chetwynde, and find out who
this woman is. I hope to win the friendship and the confidence of
these people. They will pity me, sympathize with me, and invite me
there. If Lord Chetwynde is such a friend, they can hardly overlook
his wife. The woman, whoever she may be, even if she hates me, as she
must, will yet see that it is her best policy to be at least civil to
me. And that will open a way to final and complete vengeance."

To this plan Gualtier listened in unfeigned admiration.

"You have solved the mystery!" said he, excitedly. "You will--you
must succeed, where I have failed so miserably."

"No," said Hilda, "you have not failed. Had it not been for you I
could never have had this chance. It is by your discovery of Obed
Chute that you have made my present course possible. You have
suffered for my cause, but your sufferings will make that cause at
last triumphant."

"For such a result as that I would suffer ten thousand time