hy--then another thought crossed her mind, and she
began to retreat towards a large painted panel of "Venus" disporting
among cupids and dolphins in the sea. Sir Francis sprang to her side,
and caught her arm in an iron grip--his face was aflame with baffled
spite and vindictiveness.

"Yes, I _dared_!" he muttered with triumphant malice. "And I dared do
more than that! You lay unconscious in my arms,--you beautiful,
bewitching Thelma, and I kissed you--ay! fifty times! You can never undo
those kisses! You can never forget that _my_ lips, as well as your
husband's, have rested on yours--I have had that much joy that shall
never be taken away from me! And if I choose, even now,"--and he gripped
her more closely--"yes, even now I will kiss you, in spite of you!--who
is to prevent me? I will force you to love me, Thelma--"

Driven to bay, she struck him with all her force in the face, across the
eyes.

"Traitor!--liar!--coward!" she gasped breathlessly. "Let me go!"

Smarting with the pain of the blow, he unconsciously loosened his
grasp--she rushed to the "Venus" panel, and to his utter discomfiture
and amazement he saw it open and close behind her. She disappeared
suddenly and noiselessly as if by magic. With a fierce exclamation, he
threw his whole weight against that secret sliding door--it resisted all
his efforts. He searched for the spring by which it must have
opened,--the whole panel was perfectly smooth and apparently solid, and
the painted "Venus" reclining on her dolphin's back seemed as though she
smiled mockingly at his rage and disappointment.

While he was examining it, he heard the sudden, sharp, and continuous
ringing of an electric bell somewhere in the house, and with a guilty
flush on his face he sprang to the drawing-room door and unlocked it. He
was just in time, for scarcely had he turned the key, when Morris made
his appearance. That venerable servitor looked round the room in evident
surprise.

"Did her ladyship ring?" he inquired, his eyes roving everywhere in
search of his mistress. Sir Francis collected his wits, and forced
himself to seem composed.

"No," he said coolly. "_I_ rang." He adopted this falsehood as a means
of exit. "Call a hansom, will you?"

And he sauntered easily into the hall, and got on his hat and
great-coat. Morris was rather bewildered,--but, obedient to the command,
blew the summoning cab-whistle, which was promptly answered. Sir Francis
tossed him half a crown,