ently turned on the inside.

With a quick motion, Mrs. Bray waved her hand toward the adjoining
chamber. Mrs. Dinneford did not hesitate, but glided in noiselessly,
shutting and locking the door behind her.

"Pinky Swett!" exclaimed Mrs. Bray, in a low voice, putting her finger
to her lips, as she admitted her visitor, at the same time giving a
warning glance toward the other room. Eyeing her from head to foot, she
added, "Well, you are an object!"

Pinky had drawn aside a close veil, exhibiting a bruised and swollen
face. A dark band lay under one of her eyes, and there was a cut with
red, angry margins on the cheek.

"You are an object," repeated Mrs. Bray as Pinky moved forward into the
room.

"Well, I am, and no mistake," answered Pinky, with a light laugh. She
had been drinking enough to overcome the depression and discomfort of
her feelings consequent on the hard usage she had received and a night
in one of the city station-houses. "Who's in there?"

Mrs. Bray's finger went again to her lips. "No matter," was replied.
"You must go away until the coast is clear. Come back in half an hour."

And she hurried Pinky out of the door, locking it as the girl retired.
When Mrs. Dinneford came out of the room into which he had gone so
hastily, the roll of bank-notes still lay upon the floor. Mrs. Bray had
prudently slipped them into her pocket before admitting Pinky, but as
soon as she was alone had thrown them down again.

The face of Mrs. Dinneford was pale, and exhibited no ordinary signs of
discomfiture and anxiety.

"Who was that?" she asked.

"A friend," replied Mrs. Bray, in a cold, self-possessed manner.

A few moments of embarrassed silence followed. Mrs. Bray crossed the
room, touching with her foot the bank-bills, as if they were of no
account to her.

"I am half beside myself," said Mrs. Dinneford.

Mrs. Bray made no response, did not even turn toward her visitor.

"I spoke hastily."

"A vampire!" Mrs. Bray swept round upon her fiercely. "A blood-sucker!"
and she ground her teeth in well-feigned passion.

Mrs. Dinneford sat down trembling.

"Take your money and go," said Mrs. Bray, and she lifted the bills from
the floor and tossed them into her visitor's lap. "I am served right. It
was evil work, and good never comes of evil."

But Mrs. Dinneford did not stir. To go away at enmity with this woman
was, so far as she could see, to meet exposure and unutterable disgrace.
Anything but that.