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"No," said Etwald, rising. "We have talked long enough on this subject. It is plain that we three men are in love with the same woman. You can't blame me, nor I you. Miss Dallas is a sufficiently beautiful excuse for our madness. I spoke out simply because I want you both to understand the position. You are warned, and we can now do battle for the smiles of this charming lady. Let the best man win!",

"It would take the hydra-headed monster of—may I bring my mother to call on you and the—Mrs. Henderson?" he asked, and poured the wonder smile all over me. Again I almost caught my breath.,

"She is lovely, isn't she?" she replied ardently. "But her dress isn't half so gorgeous as yours," she added heartily.,

Toward the morning Jen slept for an hour or so, and when he rose and had taken his bath he felt much refreshed, and ready to face Etwald at this final interview. At eleven o'clock Mrs. Dallas arrived with Isabella, the latter looking wan and ill. Even had the major not promised to be silent, he could not have brought himself to tell the poor girl the truth at that moment. After all, she was perfectly innocent, and had committed the crime unwittingly. Dido was the culprit, not Isabella; and the major felt a profound pity for the miserable girl, who had been made a tool of by the unscrupulous negress and the evil-minded Etwald.

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Of course this was mere raving on the part of Jen, who had no reason to connect either woman with the crime; but the poor man was beside himself with grief at the loss of Maurice, and hardly knew what he was saying. Being in this frame of mind he was by no means pleased when shortly after the delivery of Mrs. Dallas' message Dido made her appearance with a request for a personal interview.,

"I got my criticism! And he said the work was good! Now I can write to Bruce," and her voice rang with a thrilling note of joy that carried Patricia with her.,

Suddenly he woke with a start. Somebody was rapping gently on the shutters of the middle window. Glancing at the clock, Jen saw that it was three in the morning, and wondering who could be outside at so untimely an hour, he rose to open the window. With care, begotten by old experience, he picked up his revolver and held it ready while unbolting the window shutters. When they were thrown open he saw a white figure with outstretched hands standing before the window.,

"I don't think this is very nice," she whispered as Bruce was exchanging a few words with the smiling proprietor in the little cage behind the tiny counter.