hat was to be accomplished by it,
she did not trouble herself to define; it only gave her a kind of
confused satisfaction to think that she was mystifying somebody who
had for a long time been mystifying her. Roeschen was exactly of Miss
Jones's height and their figures closely resembled each other. So when
they were masked a microscope would be required to tell them apart.

Roeschen, who was full of blissful anticipations, went about during the
day embracing people promiscuously from sheer excess of happiness. She
could almost have embraced Grover, foe though he was, for having
afforded her such a glorious opportunity for playing a trick on
him. Her adventurous spirit had long yearned for some monumental
enterprise, and this had somehow a mysterious atmosphere about it
which made it doubly attractive to the admirer of Lucrezia Borgia.
As for Miss Jones, she was unsuspicious as a new-born babe, which
circumstance heightened the joy of the conspirators, thrilling them
with sensations of deep and delightful villainy.

The week before Lent came at last and the reign of Prince Carnival was
proclaimed through the streets by medieval heralds in gorgeous attire.
The procession was watched from windows and balconies, and at last
came the evening with its alluring festivities, including the _bal
masque_. The Frau Professorin, as she flitted from Miss Jones's
boudoir to that of her daughter, taking notes of the former's costume
for the benefit of the latter, felt like an arch conspirator upon
whose coolness and address the fate of empires hung. Miss Jones had
had her costumes designed by an expert costumer, and the difficulty
was to make Roeschen's home-made finery as trim and dazzling as the
products of professional skill. This feat was, however, happily
accomplished, thanks to Minchen's artistic taste and Gretchen's nimble
fingers. The Frau Professorin then slipped with a sigh of relief into
her black domino and took her seat at Miss Jones's side in the
carriage. Grover, in the guise of King Gunther in the Nibelungen Lay,
sat opposite, arrayed in a splendid helmet and scarlet cloak,
endeavoring to make his legs as unobtrusive as possible. The drive to
the Schuetzenhaus was not long, and Miss Jones, muffled up to her very
eyes, hopped out of the carriage as lightly as Cinderella from her
metamorphosed cucumber. The Frau Professorin, likewise muffled,
allowed Grover to assist her up the stairs, and was conducted by him
to the d