's voice.

"Only one more confession, and we have gone through our list. Lilith is
hiding, as usual, but she shall not escape. Come out of your corner,
you silent sprite, and tell us what gift you would ask of the Fates
to-night!"

"A white moss rose!" drawled Claudia mockingly, but the ripple of
laughter which usually followed her words was this time feeble and
unreal.

Every eye was turned towards that darkened corner; the very fire, as
though following the general example, threw up a long blue flame which
flickered strangely over Lilith's face.

She moved forward with a noiseless deliberation; first, two tiny,
white-shod feet gleamed upon the oak floor, then two small hands clasped
on folds of satin; last of all, the small head with the tightly swathed
hair, the small, straight features, and the curious light-rimmed eyes.
For a long, silent moment she sat gazing before her. Her voice when she
spoke had an unexpected depth and richness.

"I want," said Lilith slowly--"Power!"

Mrs Ingram disapproved of anachronisms, and set her face sternly
against electric lighting in her ancestral home. To-night, as every
night, the retiring guests helped themselves to one of a row of silver
candlesticks on a table near the staircase, and lit it with a match
before beginning the ascent. Lilith was the last of the ladies to
receive her candle; the last to receive the salutations of the four men.
She raised her face to each in turn, and gazed deep in his eyes, while
their hands met and parted, and to three men out of the four came, at
that moment, a vision and a dream. The man who had wished for love,
thrilled at the thought of a woman's eyes looking out of an unknown
face, which yet would share some magical quality with those now looking
into his own. John Malham saw in a vision an icy peak, sharp and white,
and beautiful with a deadly beauty. The touch of her hand in his was
cold and light as a snowflake. Val Lessing looked at the white column
of her throat, and beheld round it ropes of pearls--lustrous, shimmering
pearls for which a man might venture his life; but Francis, the giant,
had no illusions--he was sleepy, and he thought of bed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alone in the great hall, husband and wife stood over the dying logs.

"Well, wonderful woman!" he said, "you have given us a wonderful
evening, and now we must stand by, and watch those nine strugglers in