thanked her with a humility
which was new to the girl. And out of the reconciliation came a view of
her which Lois had never seen, and which hardly any one had seen often.

CHAPTER XXXI

TERPY'S LAST DANCE AND WICKERSHAM'S FINAL THROW

Curiously enough, the interview between Mrs. Lancaster and Lois brought
them closer together than before. The older woman seemed to find a new
pleasure in the young girl's society, and as often as she could she had
the girl at her house. Sometimes, too, Keith was of the party. He held
himself in leash, and hardly dared face the fact that he had once more
entered on the lane which, beginning among flowers, had proved so thorny
in the end. Yet more and more he let himself drift into that sweet
atmosphere whose light was the presence of Lois Huntington.

One evening they all went together to see a vaudeville performance that
was being much talked about.

Keith had secured a box next the stage. The theatre was crowded.
Wickersham sat in another box with several women, and Keith was aware
that he was covertly watching his party. He had never appeared gayer or
been handsomer.

The last number but one was a dance by a new danseuse, who, it was
stated in the playbills, had just come over from Russia. According to
the reports, the Russian court was wild about her, and she had left
Europe at the personal request of the Czar. However this might be, it
appeared that she could dance. The theatre was packed nightly, and she
was the drawing-card.

As the curtain rose, the danseuse made her way to the centre of the
stage. She had raven-black hair and brows; but even as she stood, there
was something in the pose that seemed familiar to Keith, and as she
stepped forward and bowed with a little jerk of her head, and then, with
a nod to the orchestra, began to dance, Keith recognized Terpy. That
abandon was her own.

As she swept the boxes with her eyes, they fell on Keith, and she
started, hesitated, then went on. Next moment she glanced at the box
again, and as her eye caught Keith's she gave him a glance of
recognition. She was not to be disconcerted now, however. She had never
danced so well. And she was greeted with raptures of applause. The crowd
was wild with delight.

At that moment, from one of the wings, a thin curl of smoke rose and
floated up alongside a painted tamarind-tree. It might at first have
been only the smoke of a cigar. Next moment, however, a flick of flame
stole out