and
pre-occupied look.

He knew that she was wondering who the fiery, but beautiful and
richly-dressed stranger was; knew that she could not fail to believe
that there must be something suspicious and mysterious in his
relations with her, and he was greatly exercised over the unfortunate
encounter.

He had set his heart upon winning her--he had vowed that nothing
should stand in the way of her becoming his wife, and now this--the
worst of all things--had happened, to compromise him in her eyes, and
he secretly breathed the fiercest anathemas upon the head of the
marplot who had just left them.

Later that evening, Emil Correlli took the first opportunity to
explain the unfortunate _contretemps_ to the wondering Edith. He
stated that the girl was the daughter of an Italian florist, who had
audaciously presumed to dun him for a small bill he owed her father
for floral purchases.

This matter, satisfactorily explained, as he thought, he renewed his
protestations of love to Edith, solicited her hand in marriage, and
was staggered by her emphatic refusal.

Her refusal was reported to Mrs. Goddard by that lady's brother, and
she counseled him to be patient.

"I have in mind," she said, "the germ of a most cunning plot, which
must succeed in your winning Edith Allen," and then she proceeded to
unfold her plan, which, for boldness, craft, and ingenuity, would have
been worthy of a French _intriguante_ of the seventeenth century.

"Anna, you are a trump!" Emil Correlli exclaimed, admiringly, when she
concluded. "If you can carry that out as you have planned it, it will
be a most unique scheme--the best thing of its kind on record!"

"I can carry it out if you will let me do it in my own way; only you
must take yourself off. I will not have you here to run the risk of
spoiling everything," said Mrs. Goddard, with a determined air.

"Very well, then; I will go this very night. I will take the eleven
o'clock express on the B. and A. I have such faith in your genius that
I am willing to be guided wholly by you, and trust my fate entirely in
your hands."

"I can write you from time to time, as the plan develops," she
replied, "and send you instructions regarding the final act."

"All right, go ahead--I give you _carte blanche_ for your expenses,"
said Monsieur Correlli, as he rose to leave the room.

Five hours later, he was fast asleep in a Pullman berth, and flying
over the rails toward New York.

Meanwhile Edith,