world of luxury of which he knew nothing; attracted, too,
by the woman's delicate face with its uncommon type of beauty. Their
eyes met as he stood there, stolid and motionless, framed in the
doorway. Tavernake continued to stare, unmindful, perhaps unconscious,
of the rudeness of his action. The woman, after a moment, glanced away
at the shopwindow. A sudden thought seemed to strike her. She spoke
through the tube at her side and turned to her companion. Meanwhile, the
footman, leaning from his place, held out his arm in warning and the
car was slowly backed to the side of the pavement. The lady felt for a
moment in a bag of white satin which lay upon the round table in front
of her, and handed a slip of paper through the open window to the
servant who had already descended and was standing waiting. He came at
once towards the shop, passing Tavernake, who remained in the door-way.

"Will you make this up at once, please?" he directed, handing the paper
across to the chemist.

The chemist took it in his hand and turned away mechanically toward the
dispensing room. Suddenly he paused, and, looking back, shook his head.

"For whom is this prescription required?" he asked.

"For my mistress," the man answered. "Her name is there."

"Where is she?"

"Outside; she is waiting for it."

"If she really wants this made up to-night," the chemist declared, "she
must come in and sign the book."

The footman looked across the counter, for a moment, a little blankly.

"Am I to tell her that?" he inquired. "It's only a sleeping draught. Her
regular chemist makes it up all right."

"That may be," the man behind the counter replied, "but, you see, I am
not her regular chemist. You had better go and tell her so."

The footman departed upon his errand without a glance at the girl who
was sitting within a few feet of him.

"I am very sorry, madam," he announced to his mistress, "that the
chemist declines to make up the prescription unless you sign the book."

"Very well, then, I will come," she declared.

The woman, handed from the automobile by her servant, lifted her white
satin skirts in both hands and stepped lightly across the pavement.
Tavernake stood on one side to let her pass. She seemed to him to be,
indeed, a creature of that other world of which he knew nothing. Her
slow, graceful movements, the shimmer of her skirt, her silk stockings,
the flashing of the diamond buckles upon her shoes, the faint perfume
from