radiant countenance.

"It is God's sign. Come! Penelope will awaken soon and must find
herself alone with her lover. It will be the real Penelope. You will
see. Let us draw back into the shadows. You stay near her," she motioned
to Herrick, then turned down the lights except a yellow-shaded lamp near
the sleeper.

And, presently, watching with breathless interest, these three saw
Penelope stir naturally and open her eyes.

"Why, how strange!" she exclaimed. "I must have gone to sleep. Why did
you let me go to sleep, Chris?" she questioned her lover, with bright,
happy eyes in which there was no trace of her recent perturbations of
spirit.

"It's all right, Pen," he said reassuringly. "You were a little--a
little faint, I guess."

She held out her hand lovingly and beckoned him to her side.

"Sit by me here. I had such a horrible dream. I'm so glad to see you,
dear. I'm so glad to be awake. Oh!" She started up in embarrassment as
she saw that her dress was disarranged. "What's the matter with my
dress? What did I do? What has happened? Tell me. You must tell me," she
begged in confusion.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he soothed her. "It was the excitement of all
that talk--that ass of a poet."

Penelope passed her hand over her eyes in a troubled effort to remember.
It was pathetic to see her groping backwards through a daze of confused
impressions. The last clear thing in her mind was exchanging rings with
her lover. How long had they been here? What time was it? What must
Roberta think of them, staying up in her apartment all alone?

Christopher assured her that what Roberta thought (she and her gay
friends were still dancing downstairs) was the very least of his
preoccupations, and he was planning to turn his sweetheart's thoughts
into a different channel when Seraphine came forward out of the shadows
followed by Dr. Owen.

"Why, Seraphine!" exclaimed Penelope in astonishment. "Where did you
come from? And Dr. Owen?"

Seraphine greeted her friend lovingly and kissed her, but there was
unconcealed anxiety in her voice and manner.

"Dear child, something very serious has happened. You were ill and--Dr.
Owen came to help you. He wants to ask you some questions."

"Yes?" replied Penelope, her face paling.

Then the doctor, with scarcely any prelude and with almost brutal
directness, said: "Mrs. Wells, I want you to tell me why you accused
Captain Herrick of disloyalty."

Poor Penelope! She could only ga