ion to
employ them?"

Lady Janet suddenly opened her eyes. "The whole household is at your
orders," she cried, furiously. "Leave me!"

Grace was far from being offended. If anything, she was gratified--there
was a certain triumph in having stung Lady Janet into an open outbreak
of temper. She insisted forthwith on another condition.

"In the event of my deciding to receive the check," she said, "I cannot,
consistently with my own self-respect, permit it to be delivered to me
otherwise than inclosed. Your ladyship will (if necessary) be so kind as
to inclose it. Good-evening."

She sauntered to the door, looking from side to side, with an air of
supreme disparagement, at the priceless treasures of art which adorned
the walls. Her eyes dropped superciliously on the carpet (the design of
a famous French painter), as if her feet condescended in walking over
it. The audacity with which she had entered the room had been marked
enough; it shrank to nothing before the infinitely superior proportions
of the insolence with which she left it.

The instant the door was closed Lady Janet rose from her chair. Reckless
of the wintry chill in the outer air, she threw open one of the windows.
"Pah!" she exclaimed, with a shudder of disgust, "the very air of the
room is tainted by her!"

She returned to her chair. Her mood changed as she sat down again--her
heart was with Mercy once more. "Oh, my love!" she murmured "how low I
have stooped, how miserably I have degraded myself--and all for You!"
The bitterness of the retrospect was unendurable. The inbred force of
the woman's nature took refuge from it in an outburst of defiance and
despair. "Whatever she has done, that wretch deserves it! Not a living
creature in this house shall say she has deceived me. She has _not_
deceived me--she loves me! What do I care whether she has given me her
true name or not! She has given me her true heart. What right had Julian
to play upon her feelings and pry into her secrets? My poor, tempted,
tortured child! I won't hear her confession. Not another word shall she
say to any living creature. I am mistress--I will forbid it at once!"
She snatched a sheet of notepaper from the case; hesitated, and threw it
from her on the table. "Why not send for my darling?" she thought. "Why
write?" She hesitated once more, and resigned the idea. "No! I can't
trust myself! I daren't see her yet!"

She took up the sheet of paper again, and wrote her second messa