sely-fitting garment of navy-blue
velvet.

The moment Emil Correlli spoke her name, she burst passionately forth,
and began to address him in rapidly uttered sentences of some foreign
language, which Edith could not understand.

It was not French, for she could converse in that tongue, and she knew
it was not German. She therefore concluded it must be either Italian
or Spanish.

As the girl talked, her eyes roved from the man's face to Edith's,
with angry, jealous glances, while she gesticulated wildly with her
hands, and her voice was fierce and intense with passion.

She would not give Monsieur Correlli an opportunity to say one word,
until she had exhausted her seemingly endless vocabulary; but he was
as colorless as a piece of his own statuary, and a lurid, desperate
light burned in his eyes--a gleam, which, if she had been less intent
upon venting her own passion, would have warned her that she was doing
her cause, whatever it might be, more harm than good by the course she
was adopting.

At last she paused in her tirade, simply because she lacked breath to
go on, when Emil Correlli replied to her, in her own tongue, and with
equal fluency; but in tones that were both stern and authoritative,
while it was evident that he was excessively annoyed by her sudden and
unexpected appearance there.

Finally, after another attempt upon the girl's part to carry her
point, he stamped his foot imperatively, to emphasize some command,
and, with a look which made her cringe like a whipped cur before him;
when, shooting a glance of fire and hate at Edith, she turned away,
with a crestfallen air, and went, dejectedly, down the street.

Edith would have been glad, and had tried, to escape from this scene,
for after the first moment of surprise upon being so unceremoniously
confronted by the beautiful stranger, she had stepped aside, ascended
the steps, and rang the bell.

But, for some reason, no one came to the door, and she was obliged to
repeat the summons, but feeling very awkward to have to stand there
and listen to the altercation that was being carried on so near her,
although she could not understand a word that was said.

At last, just as Monsieur Correlli had delivered his authoritative
command, the butler made his appearance, and let Edith in.

Before she could enter, the woman was gone, and Emil Correlli sprang
up the steps, and was by her side.

He glanced anxiously down upon her face, which wore a grave