," said Hedrick, not unsympathetically, but as
a sportsman. And he consented to be led away.

Laura had been standing at the top of the steps looking down the
street, where Corliss and his brisk companion had emerged
momentarily from deep shadows under the trees into the
illumination of a swinging arc-lamp at the corner. They
disappeared; and she turned, and, smiling, gave the delaying guest
her hand in good-night.

His expression, which was somewhat troubled, changed to one of
surprise as her face came into the light, for it was transfigured.
Deeply flushed, her eyes luminous, she wore that shining look
Hedrick had seen as she wrote in her secret book.

"Why, Laura!" said Lindley, wondering.

She said good-night again, and went in slowly. As she reached the
foot of the stairs, she heard him moving a chair upon the porch,
and Cora speaking sharply:

"Please don't sit close to me!" There was a sudden shrillness in
the voice of honey, and the six words were run so rapidly together
they seemed to form but one. After a moment Cora added, with a
deprecatory ripple of laughter not quite free from the same
shrillness:

"You see, Richard, it's so--it's so hot, to-night."

CHAPTER FIVE

Half an hour later, when Lindley had gone, Cora closed the front
doors in a manner which drew an immediate cry of agony from the
room where her father was trying to sleep. She stood on tiptoe to
turn out the gas-light in the hall; but for a time the key
resisted the insufficient pressure of her finger-tips: the little
orange flame, with its black-green crescent over the armature, so
maliciously like the "eye" of a peacock feather, limned the
exquisite planes of the upturned face; modelled them with soft and
regular shadows; painted a sullen loveliness. The key turned a
little, but not enough; and she whispered to herself a
monosyllable not usually attributed to the vocabulary of a damsel
of rank. Next moment, her expression flashed in a brilliant
change, like that of a pouting child suddenly remembering that
tomorrow is Christmas. The key surrendered instantly, and she ran
gayly up the familiar stairs in the darkness.

The transom of Laura's door shone brightly; but the knob, turning
uselessly in Cora's hand, proved the door itself not so
hospitable. There was a brief rustling within the room; the bolt
snapped, and Laura opened the door.

"Why, Laura," said Cora, observing her sister with transient
curiosity, "you haven't un