ed trimmings, and poised a
coquettish Paris model hat on her thick untwisted coils of hair. Thus
attired, she passed out of her dressing-room, locking the door behind
her, and after a brief conversation with the jocose acting manager, whom
she met on her way out, she left the theatre, and took a cab to the
Criterion, where the young Duke of Moorlands, her latest conquest, had
invited her to a sumptuous luncheon with himself and friends, all men of
fashion, who were running through what money they had as fast as they
could go.

Lady Winsleigh, on her way home, was tormented by sundry uncomfortable
thoughts and sharp pricks of conscience. Her interview with Violet Vere
had instinctively convinced her that Sir Philip was innocent of the
intrigue imputed to him, and yet,--the letter she had now in her
possession seemed to prove him guilty. And though she felt herself to be
playing a vile part, she could not resist the temptation of trying what
the effect would be of this compromising document on Thelma's trusting
mind. It was undoubtedly a very incriminating epistle--any lawyer would
have said as much, while blandly pocketing his fee for saying it. It was
written off in evident haste, and ran as follows:--

"Let me see you once more on the subject you know of. Why will you
not accept the honorable position offered to you? There shall be
no stint of money--all the promises I have made I am quite ready
to fulfill--you shall lose nothing by being gentle. Surely you
cannot continue to seem so destitute of all womanly feeling and
pity? I will not believe that you would so deliberately condemn to
death a man who has loved, and who loves you still so faithfully,
and who, without you, is utterly weary of life and broken-hearted!
Think once more--and let my words carry more weight with you!"

"BRUCE-ERRINGTON."

This was all, but more than enough!

"I wonder what he means," thought Lady Winsleigh. "It looks as if he
were in love with the Vere and she refused to reciprocate. It _must_ be
that. And yet that doesn't accord with what the creature herself said
about his 'preaching at her.' He wouldn't do that if he were in love."

She studied every word of the letter again and again, and finally folded
it up carefully and placed it in her pocket-book.

"Innocent or guilty, Thelma must see it," she decided. "I wonder how
she'll take it! If she wants a proof--it