he French ones, I mean. What do you
call them--apache or something." She pronounced that word wrongly also.

Faith did not answer, and Peg laughed.

"I'd never be such a dog in the manger," she said mockingly.

Her heart was beating fast with a sudden wild hope.

Was there any cause for Faith to be jealous? Had Forrester at last
ceased to be indifferent to her? She recalled the slow look of
admiration in his eyes, and her pulses leapt.

Well, Faith would have none of him! Could she be surprised if, after all
that had happened.... But before the thought was complete in her mind
she was ashamed of it. She turned away from the mirror, and looked at
Faith with angry eyes.

"You little idiot!" she said, with good-natured irritation. "Do you
think he'd look at me if ...?" Then once again she stopped.

Supposing unconsciously she had begun to teach Faith a lesson. Supposing
by allowing her to be jealous it might be the means of making her care
for Forrester--at last!

She caught her breath with a little exultant sound. She had so longed to
make him happy, and if the only way to do so was by giving him his wife
at the sacrifice of her own love, well--who was she to complain?

He had done everything for her. He had taken her from the sordid
surroundings where she had passed all the days of her life. He had done
his best to make a lady of her. He had trusted her, treated her as a
friend. Was there any sacrifice too great to make in return?

Peg was not one to hesitate once an idea had taken shape in her mind,
and even as Faith looked at her she saw the dark, handsome face harden
and grow defiant as she turned with a shrug of her shoulders and opened
the closed door.

"Well, I've been in pleasanter company, I must say!" she said in her old
nonchalant tone. "So I'll leave you to yourself. Good-night, fair Lady
Elaine, and pleasant dreams!"

She swept Faith a low, mocking curtsy, the folds of her cherry-coloured
gown sweeping the floor all around her, then she laughed and went off to
her own room.

Faith ran to the door and shut and locked it. Her throat was throbbing
with suppressed sobs and her lips shook.

She had been so fond of Peg. She had looked up to her and admired her,
but to-night she could find it in her heart to hate her for her handsome
beauty and insolence.

She, too, had seen the look of admiration in Forrester's eyes, and a
little sick suspicion rose above the angry tumult of her heart.

Supposin