n all her war-paint.

The two plotters arose, and saluted her with much empressement.

Miss Arthur advanced a step and stood beside the high-backed chair,
one hand still resting upon the door. Percy came toward her with
outstretched hands.

"Ah-h-h!" screeched the spinster, "what was that?"

Turning quickly she encountered nothing more formidable than her
French maid, who had evidently hurried to the spot, for she breathed
rapidly, and said, in an anxious manner:

"Pardon, mademoiselle, it is I,--did mademoiselle ring? I thought so."

"You stepped on my dress, girl," said Miss Arthur, sharply. "No, I did
not ring; perhaps Mrs. Arthur did."

"I did ring, Ellen," lied Cora, sweetly, wondering what lucky
providence sent the girl to the door just then. "I rang for you, as
Mr. Percy here, in whom I have discovered a Long Branch acquaintance,
would hardly treat me civilly, so impatient has he been to see Miss
Arthur."

Miss Arthur looked somewhat appeased. "You may go, Celine," she said,
with her most stately air.

Thus she sailed forward to meet Mr. Percy.

Celine departed, smiling an odd little smile. She went to her own room
and sitting down upon the bedside, meditated. Presently she arose, and
walking over to her mirror, gazed at her reflected image, and shaking
her head at it, murmured:

"What a nice little maid you are, Celine Leroque--and how these
people will love you by and by! You now hold in your hands the thread
that will unravel this mixture of mystery, and when the reckoning
comes, it will not be you that falls."

Thoughtfully she paced the little apartment. By and by she threw
herself upon the bed and closed her eyes, still thinking. If she could
only know just how these two had separated--Edward Percy and Cora
Arthur; and what part Lucian Davlin had played in that separation
drama. Did Cora know Lucian ten years ago--did Percy know him for his
rival? Suddenly the girl sprang up, and smiting her two palms
together, exclaimed:

"If these two men were rivals, then we may yet find a reason why
Lucian Davlin should attempt the life of Edward Percy!"

And now what should she do?

Claire Keith's bright face rose before her as she asked herself the
question. Claire must be warned and saved; but how? The girl's brow
darkened.

"She will scorn the man," she muttered, between pale lips, "and then
she will learn to value that other. She will grieve for a time,
perhaps, but not for long; then--then sh