t Miss Arthur."

"Stop a moment, my girl," the man exclaimed.

He was gazing down at Cora, who was walking away from them, with a
puzzled look. "Good God!" he ejaculated, as she turned and he saw her
face.

He checked himself, and withdrawing hastily from the window, took up
his hat as if about to depart. Approaching the window once again, he
looked cautiously forth, and seeing Cora still pacing the terrace in
evident unconcern, he muttered to himself, but quite audibly, "Thank
goodness, she did not see me."

Then turning to Celine: "Girl, who is that woman?"

The girl approached the window: "That, monsieur, is Madame Cora
Arthur."

"A widow, eh?"

"Oh, no, monsieur. Mr. Arthur is the master of Oakley."

"Oh! and madame--how long has she been his wife?"

"She is still a bride, monsieur."

"Still a bride, is she? How exceedingly pleasant." Mr. Percy had
evidently recovered from his panic. "Was she a miss when she married
the master of Oakley?"

"Oh, no, monsieur; a widow."

"Widow?" stroking his whiskers caressingly. "What name?"

"Madame Torrance, monsieur."

"Madame Torrance, eh? Well, my good girl, take this," offering a bank
note. "I really thought that Madame Torrance, I mean Arthur, was an
old friend; however, it seems I was mistaken. Now, my girl, go and
tell that lady that a gentleman desires to see her, and do not
announce me to Miss Arthur yet. May I depend upon you?" glancing at
her keenly.

"You may, monsieur."

Taking the offered money, she made an obeisance, and withdrew.

The little parlor had but one means of egress--through the door by
which Mr. Percy had entered. This door was near the angle of the room;
so near that, as it swung inward, it almost grazed against a huge
high-backed chair, stiff and grim, but reckoned among the elegant
pieces of furniture that are always, or nearly always, uncomfortable.
This chair occupied the angle, and behind its capacious back was
comfortable room for one or two persons, should they fancy occupying a
position so secluded. The act of opening the door completely screened
this chair from the view of any person not directly opposite it, until
such time as the door should be again closed.

As Celine Leroque opened the door and disappeared one might have
fancied, had they been gazing at that not-very-interesting object,
that the high-backed chair moved ever so little.

Celine flew along the hall and down the stairway, tearing viciously at
somethin