, where
the artist from his position could not see her, added, "It was good of you
to come, Mr. Lagrange; but it is really nothing. We are so sorry you were
disturbed."

"Not at all," returned the men, as the woman of the disfigured face drew
back from the door. "Good night."

"Good night," came from within the house, and the door was shut.

Chapter XI

Go Look In Your Mirror, You Fool

As the Taine automobile left Aaron King and his friend, that afternoon,
Mrs. Taine spoke to the chauffeur; "You may stop a moment, at the next
house, Henry."

If she had fired a gun, James Rutlidge could not have turned with a more
startled suddenness.

"What in thunder do you want there?" he demanded shortly.

"I want to stop," she returned calmly.

"But I must get down town, at once," he protested. "I have already lost
the best part of the afternoon."

"Your business seems to have become important very suddenly," she
observed, sarcastically.

"I have something to do besides making calls with you," he retorted. "Go
on, Henry."

Mrs. Taine spoke sharply; "Really, Jim, you are going too far. Henry, turn
in at the house." The machine moved toward the curb and stopped. As she
stepped from the car, she added, "I will only be a minute, Jim."

Rutlidge growled an inarticulate curse.

"What deviltry do you suppose she is up to now," rasped Mr. Taine.

Which brought from his daughter the usual protest,--"O, papa, don't,"

As Mrs. Taine approached the house, Sibyl Andres--busy among the flowers
that bordered the walk--heard the woman's step, and stood quietly waiting
her. Mrs. Taine's face was perfect in its expression of cordial interest,
with just enough--but not too much--of a conscious, well-bred superiority.
The girl's countenance was lighted by an expression of childlike surprise
and wonder. What had brought this well-known leader in the social world
from Fairlands Heights to the poor, little house in the orange grove, so
far down the hill?

"Good afternoon," said the caller. "You are Miss Andres, are you not?"

"Yes," returned the girl, with a smile. "Won't you come in? I will call
Miss Willard."

"Oh, thank you, no. I have only a moment. My friends are waiting. I am
Mrs. Taine."

"Yes, I know. I have often seen you passing."

The other turned abruptly. "What beautiful flowers."

"Aren't they lovely," agreed Sibyl, with frank pleasure at the visitor's
appreciation. "Let me give you a bunch." Swiftly s