he had never known her father; and the
necklace was in all respects the ornament she could most conveniently
part with. Who supposes that it is an impossible contradiction to be
superstitious and rationalizing at the same time? Roulette encourages a
romantic superstition as to the chances of the game, and the most
prosaic rationalism as to human sentiments which stand in the way of
raising needful money. Gwendolen's dominant regret was that after all
she had only nine louis to add to the four in her purse: these Jew
dealers were so unscrupulous in taking advantage of Christians
unfortunate at play! But she was the Langens' guest in their hired
apartment, and had nothing to pay there: thirteen louis would do more
than take her home; even if she determined on risking three, the
remaining ten would more than suffice, since she meant to travel right
on, day and night. As she turned homeward, nay, entered and seated
herself in the _salon_ to await her friends and breakfast, she still
wavered as to her immediate departure, or rather she had concluded to
tell the Langens simply that she had had a letter from her mamma
desiring her return, and to leave it still undecided when she should
start. It was already the usual breakfast-time, and hearing some one
enter as she was leaning back rather tired and hungry with her eyes
shut, she rose expecting to see one or other of the Langens--the words
which might determine her lingering at least another day, ready-formed
to pass her lips. But it was the servant bringing in a small packet for
Miss Harleth, which had at that moment been left at the door. Gwendolen
took it in her hand and immediately hurried into her own room. She
looked paler and more agitated than when she had first read her mamma's
letter. Something--she never quite knew what--revealed to her before
she opened the packet that it contained the necklace she had just
parted with. Underneath the paper it was wrapped in a cambric
handkerchief, and within this was a scrap of torn-off note-paper, on
which was written with a pencil, in clear but rapid handwriting--"_A
stranger who has found Miss Harleth's necklace returns it to her with
the hope that she will not again risk the loss of it._"

Gwendolen reddened with the vexation of wounded pride. A large corner
of the handkerchief seemed to have been recklessly torn off to get rid
of a mark; but she at once believed in the first image of "the
stranger" that presented itself to he