f his knowledge of her money-bags. Still, she argues to
herself, his love is true and faithful, despite his knowledge of her
_dot_, and he will in all probability make her as good a husband as she
is likely to find.

"May I command you?" asks Arthur, in his softest tones. "You know my
secret, I believe. Ever since that last meeting at Brighton, when my
heart overcame me and made me show my sentiments openly and in your
presence, you have been aware of the hopeless passion that is consuming
me. I may be mad, but I still think that, with opportunities and time, I
might make myself at least tolerated by Miss Delmaine. Will you help me
in this matter? Will you give me the chance of pleading my cause with
her alone? By so doing"--with a meaning smile--"you will also give my
cousin the happy chance of seeing you alone."

Dora only too well understands his insinuation. Latterly Sir Adrian
and Florence have been almost inseparable. To now meet with one whose
interest it is to keep them asunder is very pleasant to her.

"I will help you," she says in a low tone.

"Then try to induce Miss Delmaine to give me a private rehearsal
to-morrow in the north gallery," he whispers hurriedly, seeing Captain
Ringwood and Miss Villiers approaching. "Hush! Not another word! I rely
upon you. Above all things, remember that what has occurred is only
between you and me. It is our little plot," he says, with a curious
smile that somehow strikes a chill to Mrs. Talbot's heart.

She is faithful to her word nevertheless, and late that night, when all
have gone to their rooms, she puts on her dressing-gown, dismisses her
maid, and crossing the corridor, taps lightly at the door of Florence's
apartment.

Hearing some one cry "Come in," she opens the door, and, having fastened
it again, goes over to where Florence is sitting while her maid is
brushing her long soft hair that reaches almost to the ground as she
sits.

"Let me brush your hair to-night, Flo," she says gayly. "Let me be your
maid for once. Remember how I used to do it for you sometimes when we
were in Switzerland last year."

"Very well--you may," acquiesces Florence, laughing. "Good-night,
Parkins. Mrs. Talbot has won you your release."

Parkins having gladly withdrawn, Dora takes up the ivory-handled brush
and gently begins to brush her cousin's hair.

After some preliminary conversation leading up to the subject she has
in hand, she says carelessly--

"By the bye, Flo, you