-men who had served their country both in India and Egypt--men who
never boasted, who never discussed their intentions or plans until they
were carried out, were the men to take the law into their own hands when
their honor was involved, no matter who was hurt. Such a catastrophe
would not only bring to light her own misery, but the unavoidable
publicity would tarnish still further the good name of her people at
home. Even were only an attempt on Dalton's life made, and an official
investigation held--as she was convinced would be the case--the scandal
would be almost as bad. Rather than have this occur she would make
any sacrifice, even that of humiliating herself on her knees before
Felix--begging his forgiveness, not for the sake of the man she now
feared and detested, but for the sake of her father at home, and to
shield her own identity. She feared, too, for Felix. He, of all men,
should be saved from committing such an act.

With this a sudden resolve born of her fears and shattered nerves took
possession of her. She would not only see her husband whenever he
came, but she would send word in the morning to Stephen to redouble his
search, leaving no stone unturned until he was found.

Nothing of all this did she say to Martha, who helped her dress,
watching the dark circles beneath the eyes. Breakfast over, she silently
took her seat by the window, drew from the big paper box at her feet her
several pieces of lace, including the mantilla, and began to work.

As she held up to the light the ragged tear in the Spanish lace, and
noted the width and length of the gash in its delicate texture, her
heart sank. She saw at a glance that she could not finish it before
closing time, even if she devoted the whole day to its repair. Better
complete, thought she, the other and smaller pieces--one a fichu of
Brussels lace, and the others some embroidered handkerchiefs on which
she was to place monograms. These she would finish and take to Mangan.
When he saw how tired she was, he would accept her excuses and give her
another day for the large and more important piece. She did not have to
leave the house until four o'clock, and as Martha was to be out most of
the day, she could work on without distraction of any kind.

When, at noon, Martha left her, with a caressing pat of the hand,
promising to be back in time for supper, the anxious, weary woman picked
up her needle again, her fingers darting in and out like shuttles, her
s