cloak
now?"

"Yes."

"Good. Put this cloak on. Let only your bare neck show above it and the
tips of your shoes beneath. Button it from top to bottom, as if you felt
cold. Then we shall need but the presence of yourself and Karl, here in
this room, to solve the problem."

[Illustration: "LET ONLY YOUR BARE NECK SHOW ABOVE YOUR CLOAK, AND THE
TIPS OF YOUR SHOES BENEATH IT."--Page 115.

By Permission of Henry W. Savage.]

Olga looked at Millar a moment in silence. There flashed instantly
through her mind the full meaning of his daring suggestion, and at first
she was on the point of indignant refusal. Then she as quickly resolved
to carry out the scheme; to beat the man at his own cunning game; to
find out for herself what Karl really felt.

"Unconditionally obey me and we shall know everything," Millar assured
her, observing her hesitation.

"This is very mysterious," Olga said slowly. "What strange influence do
you possess that compels me to obey your will? Your eyes seem to have
all the wisdom of the world behind them."

"You do my eyes poor, scant justice," Millar replied. "Now go, dear
madam. If any one expresses astonishment that you wear a cloak indoors,
simply say that you felt cold."

"It really is cold," Olga said with a little shiver as they turned away.

"Out this way," Millar said quickly, pointing to the palms and a door
beyond them. "Karl is coming."

Olga gathered her skirts up and hurried from the room just as Karl
entered. The young artist caught a glimpse of her dress as she
disappeared behind the palms. He looked at Millar with jealous rage
making his eyes glow.

"Who was that?" he demanded.

"Who?" Millar asked, blandly.

"Did Olga run away from me?"

"No one ran from you that I know of, Karl. That is a pretty girl, my
young friend, that little Elsa."

"Yes, she is pretty," Karl replied absently, sitting down at a table.

He was still tortured by the sight of Millar leaning over Olga, touching
her hands, whispering in her ear. He was tormented by the insinuating
words the man had uttered in the afternoon when he swore that Olga
should love him; should be his. He would have liked to take Millar's
throat in his two hands and throttle him.

Keenly aware of the inferno he had raised in Karl, Millar continued to
chat affably, Karl not deigning to answer. Finally Millar said:

"You seem annoyed."

Karl lost control of himself and leaped to his feet. He went close to
Millar, stari