t makes you so gloomy, Dorothy?" she asked. Mrs. Hanway-Harley was
in most cheerful feather. A nobleman at her table, and though for the
fortieth time, was ever fresh and delightful to Mrs. Hanway-Harley. "You
are not ill?" Then, with arch politeness to Storri: "She has been out of
sorts all day, Count, and given us all the blues. I was delighted when
you came in to cheer us up."

"It is to my great honor, madam," responded Storri, smiling and fixing
Dorothy with that beady glance which serpents keep for what linnets they
mean to fascinate and swallow, "it is to my great honor, madam, that you
say so. I shall tell my Czar of your charming goodness to his Storri. If
I might only think that the bewitching Miss Dorothy was also glad, I
should be in heaven! Truly, it would make a paradise; ah, yes, why not!"

As Storri threw off this languishing speech, Dorothy could feel his eyes
like points of hateful fire piercing her satirically. It taught her
vaguely, even through the torture her soul was undergoing, that
composite sentiment of passion and cruelty felt for her by this Tartar
in evening dress who mixed sneer with compliment in all he said. Dorothy
could have shrieked out in the mere torment of it, and only the sight of
Mr. Harley, broken and hopeless and helpless and old, gave her strength
and courage to refrain.

Storri departed on the heels of dinner to the profound regret of Mrs.
Hanway-Harley, who pressed him to remain. The Russian was wise; he must
not attempt too much. Dorothy should have respite for a week. In seven
days he would again take dinner with the Harleys. Dorothy would have
employed those seven days in thinking on the perils to her father which
he, Storri, could launch; she would have considered how he, Storri, must
be courted and flattered and finally loved to insure her father's
safety. It was victory as it stood. Was he not compelling the proud
Dorothy to receive his compliments, his glances, his sighs, his love?
Was not Richard, the detestable, excluded, and the Harley door closed
fast in his face? Ah! Storri would impress upon these little people the
terrors of him whom they had affronted! He would cause them to mourn in
bitterness the day they heard first his name!

Storri, in midswing of all these comforting ruminations, felt a light
hand on his arm. He was sauntering leisurely along the street at the
time, and had not journeyed a block from the Harley house.

Storri started at the touch, and