several places, pearls will rain down upon the floor
by dozens, and then--"

"I'm to snatch 'em and dive through the window, eh?" I interrupted.

"No, Bunny--you will behave like a gentleman, that is all," she
responded, haughtily; "or rather like a butler with the instincts of a
gentleman. At my cry of dismay over the accident--"

"Better call it the incident," I put in.

"Hush! At my cry of dismay over the accident," Henriette repeated, "you
will spring forward, go down upon your knees, and gather up the jewels
by the handful. You will pour them back into Mrs. Gushington-Andrews's
hands and retire. Now, do you see?"

"H'm--yes," said I. "But how do you get the pearls if I pour them back
into her hands? Am I to slide some of them under the rugs, or flick them
with my thumb-nail under the piano--or what?"

"Nothing of the sort, Bunny; just do as I tell you--only bring your
gloves to me just before the guests arrive, that is all," said
Henriette. "Instinct will carry you through the rest of it."

And then the conspiracy stopped for the moment.

The following Tuesday at five the second of Mrs. Van Raffles's Tuesday
afternoons began. Fortune favored us in that it was a beautiful day and
the number of guests was large. Henriette was charming in her new gown
specially imported from Paris--a gown of Oriental design with row upon
row of brilliantly shining, crescent-shaped ornaments firmly affixed to
the front of it and every one of them as sharp as a steel knife. I could
see at a glance that even if so little as one of these fastened its
talons upon the pearl rope of Mrs. Gushington-Andrews nothing under
heaven could save it from laceration.

What a marvellous mind there lay behind those exquisite, childlike eyes
of the wonderful Henriette!

"Remember, Bunny--calm deliberation--your gloves now," were her last
words to me.

"Count on me, Henriette; but I still don't see--" I began.

"Hush! Just watch me," she replied.

Whereupon this wonderful creature, taking my white gloves, deliberately
smeared their palms and inner sides of the fingers with a milk-hued
paste of her own making, composed of talcum powder and liquid honey.
Nothing more innocent-appearing yet more villainously sticky have I ever
before encountered.

"There!" she said--and at last I understood.

An hour later our victim arrived and scarce an inch of her but shone
like a snow-clad hill with the pearls she wore. I stood at the portiere
and ann