ve before the dressing table whose
mirrors were accustomed to reflect her, reached out to touch the
handles of her brushes, as if expecting them to be still warm from her
hands. He remembered the tiny empty vial, at the same moment that he
heard the car returning.

Lilla, on entering her bedroom, found the air heavier than usual with
her perfume. It occurred to her that one of the servants must have
been taking some; and she was vexed to think that a housemaid should go
to meet a sweetheart wearing the fragrance that a Viennese expert in
odors had concocted "to express her special temperament."

CHAPTER XLI

Now and then, craving a glimpse of the gay streets and the shops, Lilla
went into town "to see that everything was all right" in the house on
lower Fifth Avenue, or else, "to make sure that Parr was comfortable."

One afternoon, at a stoppage of the traffic her limousine came side by
side with that of Fanny Brassfield, who persuaded her to look in at a
horse show.

She found herself in a box on the edge of an arena, amid a concourse of
people whose unrelated movements and chatter combined in a species of
visible and audible mist, which encircled the spread of tan bark. In
the midst of everything, in the dusty glitter that poured down from the
high roof, horses and men were moving like automata. The thud of the
hoofs was lost in a great buzzing of voices. The odor of stables was
impregnated with the scent of winter flowers and sachets.

Round Lilla there was an accentuated stir. Even across the arena some
women were staring through their glasses. The reporters came hurriedly
to verify the rumor that it was she. Those who were promenading below
the boxes walked more slowly, feasting their eyes on her.

She eat proudly erect, her fur-trimmed cloak drawn round her tightly;
and none could have suspected the confusion of her brain after so much
solitude.

Fanny Brassfield's piercing voice struck through the fanfare of a bugle:

"Look here, Lilla, I'm giving quite a dinner tonight. You stay in town
for once, and have a little fun. We can stop and buy you a perfect
gown that I saw yesterday----"

And when Lilla had shaken her head, the blonde, lean temptress
exclaimed in exasperation:

"I declare, you're no good to anybody any more!"

A sleek-looking man in riding clothes stepped down into the box. Fanny
Brassfield, who had been craning her neck indignantly, disregarded his
outstretched hand