man so many elements in the game which she
was playing. And for all these things he only admired her the more
fervently. That she would succeed he never for a moment doubted;
though what it was that she might be aiming at, and what it was that
her success might involve, were inscrutable mysteries.

What game is the little thing up to? he asked himself,
affectionately, and with tender emphasis. What game? And this became
the one idea of his mind. Little else were his thoughts engaged in,
except an attempt to fathom the depths of Hilda's design. But he was
baffled. What that design involved could hardly have been discovered
by him. Often and often he wished that he could look into that
sick-chamber to see what the "little thing was up to." Yet, could he
have looked into that chamber, he would have seen nothing that could
have enlightened him. He would have seen a slender, graceful form,
moving lightly about the room, now stooping over the form of the sick
man to adjust or to smooth his pillow, now watchfully and warily
administering the medicine which stood near the bed. Hilda was not
one who would leave any thing to be discovered, even by those who
might choose to lurk in ambush and spy at her through a keyhole.

But though Hilda's plans were for some time impenetrable, there came
at last an opportunity when he was furnished with light sufficient to
reveal them--a lurid light which made known to him possibilities in
her which he had certainly not suspected before.

One day, on visiting Chetwynde Castle, he found her in the chief
parlor. He thought that she had come there purposely in order to see
him; and he was not disappointed. After a few questions as to the
Earl's health, she excused herself, and said that she must hurry back
to his room; but, as she turned to go, she slipped a piece of paper
into his hand, as she had done once before. On it he saw the
following words:

"_Be in the West Avenue, at the former place, at three o'clock_."

Gualtier wandered about in a state of feverish impatience till the
appointed hour, marveling what the purpose might be which had induced
Hilda to seek the interview. He felt that the purpose must be of
far-reaching importance which would lead her to seek him at such a
time; but what it was he tried in vain to conjecture.

At last the hour came, and Gualtier, who had been waiting so long,
was rewarded by the sight of Hilda. She was as calm as usual, but
greeted him with greater c