"_in the name of your mother_."

MADELINE "WEIR."

This is what she penned, and looking up she asked: "What is the number
of this place, Henry?"

"91 Empire block," he replied; "C---- street."

She added this, and then folding and enclosing, addressed it to
Clarence Vaughan, M. D., etc.

"There, Henry, take it as quickly as you can; and some day I will try
and reward you."

She smiled upon him as she gave him the letter. He took it, bowed low,
and hurried away.

She listened until the sound of his footstep could be heard no longer.
Then rising quickly, she opened the receptacle that held the portrait
of the woman who, though unseen, was still an enemy. Long she gazed
upon the pictured face, and when at last she closed the case,
springing the lock with a sharp click, she muttered between set teeth:

"I shall _know_ you when I see you, madame."

Crossing to the pistol bracket, she took the little weapon in her
hand, and picking up one of the cartridges left by its careless owner,
loaded it carefully. Having done this she placed the weapon in her
pocket.

She paced to and fro, to and fro; nothing would have been harder for
her than to remain quiet then. Her eyes wandered often to the tiny
bronze clock on the marble above the grate.

Ten minutes; her letter was delivered, was being answered
perhaps;--fifteen; how slowly the moments were going!--twenty; what if _he_
should return, too soon? Instinctively she placed her hand upon the pocket
holding the little pistol. Twenty-five minutes; what if her messenger
should fail her? And that card had clearly stated "office hours three to
five." Twenty-six; oh, how slow, how slow!--twenty-seven; had the clock
stopped? no;--twenty-eight--nine--half an hour.

Where was Henry?

She felt a giddiness creeping over her; how close the air was. Her
nerves were at their utmost tension; another strain upon the sharply
strung chords would overcome her. She felt this vaguely. If she should
be baffled now! She could take fresh heart, could nerve herself anew,
if aid came to her, but if _he_ should come she feared, in her now
half frenzied condition, to be alone, she was so strangely nervous, so
weak!

How plainly she saw it, the face of Clarence Vaughan. Oh, it was a
good face! When she saw it again she could rest. She had not felt it
before, but she did need rest sorely.

Thirty-five minutes,--oh, they had been hours to her; weary, we