perfect creaminess which sometimes accompanies red hair--and it was
whispered by her acquaintances that Florence Lepel's flaxen locks had
once been of a decidedly carroty tinge, and that their present pallor
had been attained by artificial means. Whether this was the case or not
it could not be denied that their color was now very becoming to her
pale complexion, and that they constituted the chief of Miss Lepel's
many acknowledged charms. For, in a rather strange and uncanny way,
Florence Lepel was a beautiful woman; and, though critics said that she
was too thin, that her neck was too long, her face too pale and narrow,
her hair too colorless for beauty, there were many for whom a distinct
fascination lay in the unusual combination of these features.

She was dressed from head to foot in sombre black, which made her neck
and hands appear almost dazzlingly white. Perhaps it was also the
sombreness of her attire which gave a look of fragility--an almost
painful fragility--to her appearance. Hubert noted, half unconsciously,
that her figure was more willowy than ever, that the veins on her
temples and her long white hands were marked with extraordinary
distinctness, that there were violet shadows on the large eyelids and
beneath the drooping lashes. But, for all that, the bitter sternness of
his expression did not change. When he spoke, it was in a particularly
severe tone.

"I should be obliged to you," he said, still holding his cigar between
his fingers, and looking down at her with a very dark frown upon his
face, "if you would kindly tell me exactly what you mean."

CHAPTER IV.

Florence Lepel raised her beautiful eyes at last to her brother's face.

"I only repeat what you yourself have said. There is no way out of
it--for you."

Her voice was quite even and expressionless, but Hubert's face
contracted at the sound of her words as if they hurt him. He raised his
cigar mechanically to his lips, found that it had gone out, and, instead
of relighting it, threw it away angrily from him amongst the flowers.
His sister, her eyes keen notwithstanding the velvety softness of their
glance, saw that his hands trembled as he did so.

"I should like to have some conversation with you," he said, in a tone
that betokened irritation, "if you can spare a little time from your
duties."

"They are not particularly engrossing just now," said Miss Lepel evenly,
indicating the book that lay upon her lap. "I am improvi