trap of which he had not once but many times
obliquely alluded to in half-humorous, half-genuine terms of fear--it
was, or seemed to be, intolerable.

The waves of burning emotion that swept and scorched her were
alternately of rage and chagrin.

Granted the opportunity, she could easily conceive herself as dealing
very vigorously with the mantrap.

Some one rattled the knob of her door. Startled, Sally jumped up, and
with her wadded handkerchief dabbed hastily and superfluously at
her eyes, which were quite dry as yet.

She did not answer, but eyed apprehensively the dark recess in which
the door was set at the end of her unlighted room.

A knock followed the noise of the knob. Still she hesitated to reply.
Uncertainly she moved toward the nearest wall-sconce and lifted her
hand to the switch. She was sadly confused and unstrung, her thoughts
awhirl and nerves ajangle. The last thing she wished just then was to
meet and talk to anybody.

Still it might be Mrs. Gosnold or her messenger. And that lady was
Sally's one remaining friend on earth. She swallowed hard, took
herself firmly in hand, and when the knock was repeated was able to
answer in a tolerably even voice:

"Well? Who is it?"

"Miss Manwaring, are you there?" Heartfelt relief informed the voice
of Mrs. Standish. "Please let me in. I must speak with you
immediately."

Sullenly, without replying, Sally turned on the light, moved to the
door, unlocked and opened it.

"Come in," she said ungraciously.

Mrs. Standish swept in, gay crimson domino over fluffy skirts and
slim, pink legs assorting oddly with the agitation betrayed by her
unsmiling eyes, her pallor accentuating the rouge on her cheeks
like rose-petals against snow.

"Thank God!" she whispered, "I've found you at last. I've looked
everywhere for the last half-hour. This is the second time I've been
here. You just got in, of course. Where _have_ you been?"

"Does it matter?" Sally fenced, maintaining a stony countenance. "I
mean, I don't think it does, now you've run me to earth at last.
What's the trouble?"

"You haven't seen Walter'? He hasn't told you?"

"No; I tried to speak to him half an hour ago, but he ran from me as
if I were a ghost!"

"You know why!" The woman's voice trembled with restrained rage. "You
impossible girl! Why, why did you let Aunt Abby go to meet him instead
of you? It was fatal, it was criminal. Of course, he gave the whole
show away to her, never guessi