lement it was which
urged her to make all she could of life, in the hope of partially
filling the void in her heart. She was not even yet reconciled to the
loss of her mother, and there was a certain defiance of destiny in
her resolution to get some compensation for the wrong she had
sustained in losing what was dearest to her.

On arriving in London, Bettina went to a hotel, and from there made
inquiries as to the whereabouts of Lord Hurdly. Parliament was in
session, and his lordship was in his town house in Grosvenor Square.
Having ascertained the hour at which he was most likely to be at
home, Bettina betook herself at that hour to his house.

She refused to give her name to the servant who answered her ring,
and asked merely that Lord Hurdly might be told that a lady wished to
speak to him on a matter of importance. The servant, after a moment's
hesitation, ushered her into a small reception-room on the first
floor, and requested her to wait there.

She stood for a few moments alone in this room, her heart beating
fast. She wore the American style of deep mourning, which swathed her
in dense, impenetrable black from head to feet, and seemed to add to
her somewhat unusual tallness.

The door opened. Lord Hurdly entered. She had seen photographs of
him, and even through that thick veil would have known him anywhere.
The tall, thin figure, sharp eyes, aquiline nose, clean-shaven face,
and scrupulous dress were all familiar to both memory and
imagination.

He paused on the threshold of the room, as if slightly repelled by
the strange appearance of the shrouded figure before him. Then he
spoke, coldly and concisely.

"You wished to speak to me?" he said. "I have a few moments only at
my disposal."

Bettina raised one hand and threw back her veil, revealing thus not
only her face, but her whole figure clothed in smooth, tight-fitting
black, so plain and devoid of trimming that the exquisite lines were
shown to the best advantage. Her face, surrounded by black draperies,
looked as purely tinted as a flower, and the excitement of the moment
had made her eyes brilliant and flushed her cheeks.

The imperturbability of Lord Hurdly's face relaxed. His lips parted;
a smothered sound, as of surprise, escaped him. Certainly at that
moment Bettina was nothing less than bewilderingly beautiful.

"I have to beg your pardon for coming to you so unceremoniously," she
said. "My excuse is that I have a matter of great import