g to place the contents on her
sewing-table, but, catching sight of the kettle again, she let the box
lid drop from her hands. She was chilled from the ride in the car, the
water was boiling, and it would take but a minute to make herself a cup
of tea. This would give her renewed strength for her task. Hardly had
she drained her cup when she became conscious of a step on the stairs--a
steady, firm step. Not Martha's nor that of the boy. Nor that of the
expressman who often sought Martha's apartment.

As it approached the landing, a sickening faintness assailed her.

She had heard that step before.

It was Felix!

Her hour of trial had come!

He would find the door ajar, stride into the room with that quiet,
self-contained manner of his; and she must face him and stand ashamed!

For a brief instant she wavered, her resolution of the morning, to throw
herself at his feet, put to flight by a sense of some impending terror.
Should she spring forward and shut the door before he reached it,
refusing to admit him until Martha came, or should she creep noiselessly
into her room and lock herself in, remaining silent until he should
leave the premises, believing no one at home? While she stood, half
paralyzed with fear, the door moved gently, almost stealthily, swinging
back half its width, and a man in cape-coat, and slouch hat drawn dose
over his eyes, stepped into the room.

Lady Barbara gave a piercing shriek, sprang from her seat, and staggered
back, grasping a chair to keep her from falling. "How dare you, Guy
Dalton, to--"

The intruder loosened the top button of his cape, watching, meanwhile,
the terrified woman, and, with a sneer, said: "Oh, stop that, will you?
I've had enough of it. You thought you could get away, did you? Well,
you can't, and the sooner you find that out the better for you." He
glanced coolly around the room. "So this is where you are, is it?--a
rotten hole, anyhow. You might better have stayed where you were. Does
Rosenthal pay you enough to keep this up, or is somebody else footing
the bills? Now, you get your things on and be quick about it."

She had been edging toward her bedroom door all this time, her eyes
glaring into his with the fierceness of a cornered animal, muttering
as she stepped--one word at a time:

"You--have--no--right--to--come--in--here."

"I haven't, haven't I? I'd like to know who has a better right?" he
returned angrily.

"No, you have not." She was moving an in